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moon child.

they call her moon child, the girl with a midnight soul and an anxious heart she listens to their soft hum music as they sing songs to the forest trees about all her phases, the way she moves between new moon voodoo and full moon magic, the way she knows all your...

hidden things.

everyone has secrets hers are buried in fields where buttercups weep because the sun hasn’t graced their faces in far too long everyone has stories hers bloom along the lonely river, beside the winding road, on a path of stardust lined in daisies and dandelions...
i am under her spell.

i am under her spell.

i watched her waking from hibernation, neither ghost nor girl but hovering somewhere in between, a born wildflower drifting so i taught her to dance in rays of sunlight, to run beneath the rain and now, she is anointed with energy, illuminated from within she goes up...