I’m no longer under her spell, I see her for what she likely really is. A simple and boring creature, Just another stain on the world. Bound to be one more dying shadow. A memory dead and tucked away within the dusty, disorganised, shelves of my library, archive of mind. Between the bay laurel plant and the star of the sea.. Even if she ate organic and drank of my flesh and seed, like a goddess for a moment.