I cup the moon in my hands
from a safe space
on untamed ground
in a forgotten place.
The moon—
its glow, it lingers,
wrapping soft eggshell hues
around my fingers.
I cup the moon in my hands
from a safe space
on untamed ground
in a forgotten place.
The moon—
its glow, it lingers,
wrapping soft eggshell hues
around my fingers.
