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that wild, wondrous magic.

that wild, wondrous magic.

i trespass into late hours listening for wings, waiting for something luminous to pierce the night she arrives draped in the last summer green, all gypsy magic with flowers in her hair she knows every secret the dark holds, and her eyes shimmer with the light of a...
mornings can be magic.

mornings can be magic.

sunrise paints the sky with a breath of poetry, all cantaloupe and mint and the same misty morning blue that lives in your eyes we speak in silent languages, in wisps and wants, in feathery clouds that flutter gently against your skin, in silent pictures etched across...
bang.

bang.

i dip my head beneath bubbles laced with smoke and magic, swim within the obscure, dive into puddles of darkness i rise with a smile that hides a chamber of loaded words these lips are a loaded gun …bang. – ashley...

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...