you asked me who i am,
wanted to know the phases of my soul
i. slow mornings, an amethyst aubade played
just outside a secret window where a crow
waits on the ledge
ii. restless want, connected energies
impatiently waiting for inspiration to strike
iii. lightning crash sea glass secretly hidden
between quartz and crystals and igneous rock
iv. a twist of gothic red splattered across
the innocence of a snow moon shimmer
v. a violet goodnight, an aura of shadows
and purple lace skies decorated in poetry
vi. a journey, the path between body and mind,
between the known and the unknown
vi. beginnings and endings placed like bookends,
displaying the wonder of it all
i insisted that some things cannot be
singularly defined