i wandered in the forest, as so many hopeless do despite the warnings of the wise and found myself tracing the world fingers ghosting over leaves and foxglove blossoms as the woods grew dark around me and the moon seemed to shy away from my path
when i stood still to search for it, what i found instead was her standing tall enough to choke the light and yet almost like a flame bloodied flowers growing from her chest and covering her ribs and antlers stretching from her amber hair
"i am", she spoke, "the patron of dreams just barely forgotten the echo of a memory straying further away the more you strive to keep it close"
a flutter between us in the silence a moth landing on her skin and attempting to draw blood where it sat, a new flower spread swallowing it whole
my head felt heavy as i swayed slick sickening warmth coating my teeth i fell to my knees and as i did my eyes met the leaves and dirt below but where before there had been sticks and wood i saw bones littering the earth
"it is a shame", she said over the sound of the forest stirring twisting with displeasure at my discovery "you were as beautiful as you were lost"
Once again, no moths were harmed in the making of this poem. I think.