@trajedis said :   â  i couldnât utter my love when it counted.   â    /  Â
anakin skywalker is an embalmed corpse left at the temple of her love. padmÊ routinely mourns for him.  & like a half-eaten liver , her grief starts anew each morning.  & like burned skin healing , she revists her memory of him with caution. the injured animal of her sorrow is wary of the sun-bright image of his smile , the salted taste of his mouth , the touch , the breath , the all of him as fragmented echoes in her mind. there are mornings in which her throat still itches from contained sobs , mornings when anakin's ghost shares their bread with them & padmÊ answers obi-wan's silence with silence.
đđŽđ đđĄđđŤđ đđŤđ đ¤đ˘đ§đđđŤ đŚđ¨đŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ. sometimes unstranslated and betrayed afterimages die under the light only for others to emerge from the soft dark beyond the light of the desert â which means , in simpler words for simpler times , that there is good in the world still. every morning hope and love stubbornly persist. something good and human remains in the desert still , undevoured by it. the future and the past scrape gently at the feet of her children :  pieces of anakin that live in leia's bold smile , in luke's blue eyes.  & anakin is not a ghost then , but light , only ever light , even if for a moment.  â but it still counts. â  she says , then moves her hand from his chest to point at the children outside.  â  it still counts. you love them as you loved him â make it count. for him... and for them. we need you.  âÂ
