The line comes from Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani. I usually like more flowery prose but the line has got some gritty attitude to it that makes it beautiful in some way to me.
This is for the butterflies waiting to emerge from their cocoons, for those likewise trapped in stasis, for those who might not even know they want something else or could get there… shake the dust.
This is for the teardrops that have yet to fall, the drops of colour that are yet to wilt or shrivel or dry up, the miasma of sins and decadence… shake the dust.
This is for wandering whims in reading, for the hole or whatever else that current whim fills, for unknown and totally inexplicable food cravings… shake the dust.
This is for previous beauty pageants who have grown old, for warriors aged beyond the battlefield, for meetings too late or too early… shake the dust.
This is for lullabies you don’t remember, memories too early for recall, instincts too basic for suppression… shake the dust.
Moonlake's Fiction Space 