She lives downstairs, I banished her there when she was nine, it was easier than spitting venom at each other.

I live upstairs, the Red Queen in her house of cards, she can blow those cards to the four corners, I am ash and embers in her wake.

She only comes upstairs for showers, even though she has her own in the basement.

I only go downstairs when I need to do laundry.

We knew somehow that we must maintain minimul contact for the time when we would have to communicate beyond the volcanic eruptions.

I grew up in the wrath of the Santa Ana Winds, possibly the only god I ever prayed to.

She grew up in this frozen place I call Hell, she walks barefoot in the snow.

I thought that as the parent I would be her teacher, but she would have none of it. I finally gave up and tried learning from this elemental that has set me to burn for some fifteen odd years.

She thought I was pushing her too hard, and was satisfied with her poor grades.

I am Fire.

She is Wind.

We collided and we became the Santa Ana winds, but not those I loved. I did not feel quickened after the encounters as I did in my days of scorching ashpalt, and my heart turned to Ice.

She then showed me that Wind and Fire can raise up from any Earth and spiral upwards together to the infinite.

We stay up til dawn now, talking to ghosts, speaking metaphysics, discussing spirituality, channeling crystals, searching the night sky for zodiac constellations, making our own rules and exploring ancient lands and future horizons.

I was wrong, she had silently learned everything I had taught her.

She was right, there would come the time when Mother and Daughter would unite and rule the world.

We dance in the rain

We laugh at social convention

We speak with no words

We dream of being free, together.

We are the scent of Oleanders blown in by the hot breath of the Santa Ana Winds,

We are Nowhere and Everywhere at the Same time .

 We Are.


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