I was once the one who ran wild, my belly soft like the breath of a child.

As age grew upon my face, I felt the touch, the grip of space, the gentle pace of rift and chase easing its way into my spine, every little crease enraging from the divine.

Nothing can hold me down, keep to this frown, I crawl and seek the glow of every noun that crosses my lips.

I’ve lived in so many different places, but never felt at home, lasting in each space until I could no longer stand to feel alone, cutting through teeth and bone, burning to burst out of this comfort zone.

Patterns repeat themselves, cyclical dances, eloquent prances that trace the chance we might get to meet on another path, in another twist of math…

Until then, may your journey treat you well, teach you how to tell the way to cast a spell that gives you what you need to shed your shell.

All blessings to you and happy new moon.

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