I love living, painful as it’s been at times. I love the colors of our kingdom and the way our clouds are ever changing. Ever shifting. I love the way the dragons soar through the tombstone-riddled sky, entirely untethered. Love the feel of fallen snow peppering my skin, and the way a frosty, south-born breeze nips at my nose, numbing the tip of it like an icy kiss. The backs of my eyes burn as I think of that little wonky moon I’ll probably never see again . . . I love that most of all.
