I have built my castle.
And herein, I will stay.
Walls high around me, safe in my mountain of clouds & memories.
Cold in the air does not chill me; I see only blue and sky and sleep. Warm & comforting.
Words cannot touch me, only pass through the aether, gently echoed, almost inaudible; far away and soft, like lilacs on the branch or feathers on my cheek.
I can stare down the parapets, entranced by birds & never feel the knowledge that I fall.
Too solid, I. Sitting in my castle.
An endless monarch, half asleep in silk and quiet sheets of paper.
You cannot touch me, now.
Not now.
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