Velvet dragonflies rest on softening thorns
Dandelions swim among words left unspoken
What the moon gives at 2am softens time
Somewhere maybe roses are blooming at night
.
Lost spells are left unspoken until then
Our thoughts are our tribe we wear around our wrists
We have a way of fitting inside our words
Mothering time as we meander our way back
.
November 28, 2023
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