Unfurling

Like a strange blossom, or a butterfly emerging from its cocoon with crumpled and still-damp wings; she stretches out her tendrils. Uncoiling, unfolding, unfurling so slowly you might not notice it. She shakes her filaments, and reaches to the firmaments.

She tilts her head up. She closes her eyes. She feels the pulse within her: no ends, no beginnings.