Mount Apikuni let the bed sheet soak up my tears

she is dancing.
her form shifts and settles like ash in the wind, whirling and swaying. she dances on the ledge, paws falling once, twice, near the edge. her eyes are closed. it is an odd little ritual, and beyond the peak the sky is overcast and threatening. there is a place in the horizon where sky and earth grow muddled; rain is approaching. 

the sky's tension weave's its fingers in betwixt her pelt and twist and pull, the movement is cathartic. yet her face is serene and still, and down the rock she moves. steps become less flowery and more purposeful, and the slip of a woman as moving up the rockface. her eyes are open, and she moves carefully as she searches for her nook, which surely must be near.