#balanceandcontrol

She balances on the ossified scream of a dying star, arabesque penchée the necromantic hinge where flesh forgets it was ever mortal.

One foot bargains with the ledge while the other conspires with air, their shared secret written in the trembling script of tendon.

This is flexibility masquerading as prophecy, a brief bright arc where bone pretends it has always been fluent in light.