(i know we haven't talked but your blog inspires me and your writing is so good!) kiss? -damesuggestion
The world does not stop for broken women with broken bones and broken swords. The world does not pity strong women, weak women, dying women. The world does not create powerful women, powerful women create themselves.
The dame is a strong woman. She knelt before the queen, no negative submission, no shame. There was an air of mutual respect between the two, for each of them ruled in the area that was built for them. The queen knelt in front of the dame, a reminder that they are equals, and pressed her lips to the other woman’s soft cheek and dirty eyelids. “You are my friend,” the queen whispered, careful not to destroy the quiet of the throne room, “but your pain upsets me.”
They stared at each other. Time no longer exists. Kisses were tattooed on the dame’s nose, on the back of her hand, on her knuckles, on her fingertips. The dame worked hard and sacrificed her soul for the good in the world. Her hands were calloused and her face was stone, but her heart was warm and her thoughts were strands of gold. She was the light in the dark and every star hidden by the atmosphere. She was the smell of pine tree and the strength of oaks. She was the feel of grass beneath one’s feet and the warmth of a full belly.
The dame created herself. She took the queen’s kisses as diamonds in her skin. She lived to fight another day and her head will never bow.