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Mother, twitch your rosary upon me, let the beads fall like soft rain on a thirsty soul. Continuously.. like a blessing handed down, like a pulse, a quiet thrum of lineage waging off my adversaries, thrums of heaven’s blessing waking in my skin. I pray, but I want the prayers from the cocoon I came out from to shiver against the walls of becoming on me, in me, around me. Your “this be the place” and that place is "me" your butterfly of many colours, still learning how to stretch and trust her wings Still learning not to bow to the wind You whispered faith into my fragile seasons, held the trembling of my becoming as though it were sacred silk. And even now, when the world grows heavy, I feel your hands in the quiet steadying my flight, mending the thin places, reminding me that wings remember even when the heart forgets. So let the rosary twitch, let the prayers burn their way to heaven, and let me taste the sweet nectar meant for this new version of me I am still unfolding, still blooming into the colours you always believed were hidden beneath my skin ...I your multicolored butterfly ©️ Dibang Mary
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 12:37 AM UTC
MOTHER'S PRAYERS
Mother, twitch your rosary upon me, let the beads fall like soft rain on a thirsty soul. Continuously.. like a blessing handed down, like a pulse, a quiet thrum of lineage waging off my adversaries, thrums of heaven’s blessing waking in my skin. I pray, but I want the prayers from the cocoon I came out from to shiver against the walls of becoming on me, in me, around me. Your “this be the place” and that place is "me" your butterfly of many colours, still learning how to stretch and trust her wings Still learning not to bow to the wind You whispered faith into my fragile seasons, held the trembling of my becoming as though it were sacred silk. And even now, when the world grows heavy, I feel your hands in the quiet steadying my flight, mending the thin places, reminding me that wings remember even when the heart forgets. So let the rosary twitch, let the prayers burn their way to heaven, and let me taste the sweet nectar meant for this new version of me I am still unfolding, still blooming into the colours you always believed were hidden beneath my skin ...I your multicolored butterfly ©️ Dibang Mary
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 12:37 AM UTC
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