Melancholy

By Natalya Newman (@natalyanewmanauthor on TikTok)

Shadows dance like marionettes cut from their strings.

Darkness is cast by plumes of fire so bright that the sun grows envious and hides away until the world begs for its return.

A little girl, somehow unscarred by the world, reaches fragile fingers towards the sky and plucks the stars like ripe fruit.

She lays them in a basket like the nine lives of a cat, all pressed too close into a place that only has room for one soul.

I hate to be the bearer of anything, but the message and the messenger are both melancholy tonight, dear child.

I wish I could tell you that they will be home soon, that they will press paper kisses to your eyelids and fold your love for them into origami swans that nestle in your hair.

I wish I could tell you anything, dear child, but I have no tongue and no voice and no mouth.

I long to stand with you in the starlit room and tell you stories of magic and wonder and light.

But tonight?

I suppose we will pluck stars like berries together and let their nectar spill down our smiling faces.