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The Moon must have kissed her
โ€”before I
and the moon must have missed her
โ€”more than I
fore her love only came to me, in waves,
and I'd beg

for mercy


my love
my love come back to me
but she was meant for the sea
and Iโ€”
could not follow.
So in her divine love,
the love of life and light to follow
she carved out paths for me
and brackish water set us free
When I was just a child
I would often leave home
and wander barefoot through the woods
to the creek , but not alone

my companions always seemed to be
the four footed variety
as a girl I had not many friends
so I made them in the wilderness

I would often lay out in the fields
and chatter with field mice
sneak into the thicket
and watch the deer 'til night

on more than one occasion
you could find me perched in a cottonwood tree
sketching the birds
that would whistle back and forth with me

I knew each and every snake
that hid beside the water
The bobcat, coyote, gopher, and the river otter
to them all, I was just
the Motherless Daughter
A glimpse into my youth
๐“˜ ๐”€๐“ช๐“ฒ๐“ฝ ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ
๐“˜๐“ท ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ญ
๐“›๐“ฎ๐“ฐ๐“ผ ๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฝ๐“ต๐”‚ ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ญ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“ด๐“ฎ ๐“น๐“ช๐“ฐ๐“ฎ๐“ผ ๐“ฝ๐“พ๐“ป๐“ท๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฒ๐“ท ๐“ธ๐“พ๐“ป ๐“ฏ๐“ช๐“ฟ๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ ๐“ซ๐“ธ๐“ธ๐“ด๐“ผ
๐“—๐“ธ๐”€ ๐“˜ ๐“ต๐“ธ๐“ท๐“ฐ ๐“ฏ๐“ธ๐“ป ๐”‚๐“ธ๐“พ ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“ฝ๐“ป๐“ช๐“ฌ๐“ฎ ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ฒ๐“ป ๐”€๐“ธ๐“ป๐“ญ๐“ผ
Fighting back sensory distortion from an infamous contortionist
The ringleader flails from the high rise as the tent collapses in from all sides
Left desolate in the barren land our only salvation is the buggy with books from the promised land but we'll use them to kindle our fire instead and roast the animals to stagger off starvation a day while we can
"Our love causes such a mess" he says.
His body melting beneath me.
I throw my hands up in distress,
but surrender lips so sweetly.
โ€”Skin stretched tragically over your encrypted tomb, but a slumber not from which you sleep but one from which you bloom.
Just as the wind carries clouds across the heavens, so goes my thoughts with them.

I have never known poetry as beautiful as a sky painted with the colors of life.

My soul grows hungry, but I will not steal bread from the tables of those I have known in my heart, nor will I live in a way this life has taught me I should.

I will chase the clouds a thousand miles and love as pure and wild as the sea from which I came.

As my steps leave no mark amongst the surf, nor shall my passion bleed to this paper through the ink in which it has been transcribed.

My body will not waste six feet under rotting amongst the forgotten.

I will drift with the current away from land Man has lay barren and ***** with wanting hands.

My mind will ebb and flow with the tide. Eternily slumbered.

— The End —