Out on the wiley, windy moors
We’d roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.

That’s how it feels sometimes, out here.

Cold and winding, long and desolate. The air moves fiercely, it can surround you and push you into yourself. It can collapse a woman’s spirit, drag it into the darkness and down into the earth. Possession, that is what she needed. She needed to possess.

Not to love, but to possess.