The Woods
raindrops shimmering slightly clinging to branches shivering, shaking, until they slip
raindrops shimmering slightly clinging to branches shivering, shaking, until they slip
I slip through the trees while the light turns slowly from indigo to a pale yellow the houses still glow amber spilling their secrets
wind lashes trees drives foliage away leaves the world cold grey
light the candles burn the sage spread tarot cards for a Wicked October
I feel stronger lifting two pound weights then writing a thousand sharp jabs
tap the pace out fast if you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you writhing in the night
delicate can be dangerous
Nothing is more satisfying then pulling the pins out of my head and shaking my hair free at the end of the day
black thumbs need fake plants