there are shapes in fog
that you cannot see
by the full light of day
simple ghosts
they dance in the wheat
announcing the rising/setting sun
innocent of expiration
simply being
i go out to their coven
this witches’ autumn gathering
and run through
while their fingers
trace water on my skin
and i am wet
and i am familiar
with their presence
as i let them know me
It’s impossible for me to comment on your site for some reason, but I am reading, and whoa. Loving it all. You have a gorgeously cinematic style that inspires me.
Effy Wild Mistress Of Mixed Media Misfits, Wrangler of Wildlings site: effywild.com email: hello@effywild.com Create your own signature
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