All things melancholy · Musings · Poetry · Small Joys · Strong Woman · Treasure

a circle of grace

she sprinkles faerie dust on me and I begin to laugh, even as the canned laughter makes me laugh even harder. but it is in the cold crisp solitude at the end of the evening where the laughter shimmers in my eyes.  great furry one, i say as his sparkling eyes look on me, if i unzipped you, nothing but pure radiant sunshine would pour forth.  i am a supermodel as my 10 year old corduroys fall off of me and my five old shirt looks faded in the yellow lights of the street and my stained red walking shoes carry me.  what would happen if you unzipped me?  i expand and expand into the great vastness of my self, there shivering in a corner is a naked little girl, but standing strong here is this warrior, fierce, this artist, on the edge of tomorrow.  i am the cave of forgotten dreams.  i am rutting lions.  i am a herd of running horses.  i am a female mammoth.  i am as rare as an aurochs.  ancient.  covered in paintings on my insides, the shape of the universe.  what use is such beauty if no one can see it, if it is not revealed to the world?  i feel free.  i am so full of faith that all i can do is pray.  will you not hear me, i whisper in the form of a round, lord hear my prayer.  i am fay in my solitude.  i revel in it.  i sprinkle faerie dust on my bed.  i burn incense, the smoke curls upwards, and stains my nose with its bitter aftertaste.  what if what i wish for is to be wished for?  i keep a jar of the iridescent magic corked by my bedside.  i am a sea of stars on the black night sky.



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