Grab it dearest, feel the power of
My soul beneath your fingertips. I will
Cleanse your spite, the vile decorating
The map-work of our Mother’s creation.
Fear not the whims of shadows and spells.
Through the radiance of emotion
The soul swipes clean the slate of mistakes,
Marks, and circumstantial torture. Go ahead
And wrap a portion of God so warm it
Masks the scars of the Lost and Wounded.