The Moonflower Monologues
She was written in the shadows, beneath the blankets of silent nights. Her wordsâviolet milk. Her pagesâtissues for diamond tears.
The perfumes from her pages fly high, laying to rest, upon beds of flowers. Lightâsewn into her every syllable, holding anthems that carry hearts over bitter seas. She is a scented, dancing whisper, eyes closed, riding the wind, her paper hands grip wisdomâs gift, whilst trekking naked & thin-skinnedâ
So, just as the moonflower, dares to stand and bloom, growing bright and free, in the shadows of the moon; May these gentle pages, when planted just like seeds, carry breath to move you (& others) through the valleys and the messy seasâIn the shadowsâblooming.
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