we are lost. we've told him a thousand times, but he is relentless; so there is nothing but sand on our toes, the swish of waves, too far away; and the air, poisoning us step by step.
once, he had a chain to drag us by. it linked our arms that shouldn't be, so that we were one mass; so not even one dancer could escape. now though, there is no choice but to stay together; we need each other to survive.
and we will survive. somehow.
we are walkers now, and how it hurts. our bodies are all wrong. we should not have legs and knees and hair. we should have water.
the water is so close, but too far; unreachable. we hold each other as close was we can, bodies grating because this is not right. he tries to have us, but we do not let him. we hold each other tight. we hold each other. that is all we can do.
we want to be in the waves, to float, to be the dancers of our name. but the dark magic called fear, called domination, called poison, grips us just like his wrist did when he wrenched us from the water.
we do not know where we are going. but we will not let him have us. one day these legs will be gone, and then we will breathe, and forget that the water hurts us sometimes to, because we want that pain, a sharp sting of bubbles. we hate the inexorable air.
we are lost. he is as lost as us. but he does not know that we have a plan, and unlike him, we will not be lost forever.
we are biding our time.