she strings her bones tightly when the wild hunt comes,
constellations of wolfteeth staccato against her skin.
midnight beckons until she can be still no longer; she runs,
leaps skywards, misty feet skimming smoke and threads of
stormcloud, arrow-arcing up and up until the horizon breaks
beneath her with a clap of thunder and above the aurora is
blooming. celestial goddess-not-girl perched on the rim of
heaven, the music of the spheres calls the planets to
orbit and she waxes timeless amid stars and satellites,
dancing a saturnalia with venus, whirling to the immortal
moonspun madness of the universe and tonight
all the world below breathes alive to her song.