you wear a crown but you are no longer king

A cold sun shines into colder hearts, and the lions roar shatters, glittering like a diamond in the midwinter heat.

We are far away now. Ships travel fast when there’s no water to sink them. The compass doesn’t point North, and we don’t need it to, to reach where we’re going.

The sun’s golden crown collects the dust that it’s king has become. You snarl at the stars and dream of sounds that don’t break on your lips. You sing.

A frozen locket hangs from my neck and I tuck away my wild wolf grin. The moon wears a circlet of silver rings and spins tales older than time. I wait.

The lunar queen girl and the solar prince boy; wolves and lions pacing the deck of a ship on a journey that will never end.

You, lion prince, the boy with a voice like glass. The sun will warm under your touch and I will no longer rule alone.

I, wolf queen, the girl with a locket around her neck, and a lock upon her heart. The moon will gleam beside my breath, and you will no longer falter.

A broken compass will lead you if you don’t know where you’re going. The moon is in my wolfs grin, and the sun shimmers on your broken glass words.
We sing a silent song to the sky

for the echo.

—  Lockets can’t hold lions, by k.t