The strawberry moon's footprints,
still shimmering on my bed sheets
Wrinkles in cotton and silk,
whorls of patterns that don't make sense.
The aftermath of my dreams -
Threads of unsaid words,
Unreel then break off from the edge of my lips.
Just like the -
Robbed dreams -
The aftertaste of your kiss
On this grey morning
Writings on my skin ☆
Indulge me as I dance in glee for the creative visitation that has subsequently led me to break out in this impromptu jive of words. I am so grateful that I am finally able to write again after a long drought. I allowed self-doubt sketch a cloud over my head, and now that the sun is out I don't even know why I let it hang around in the first place.
So many people and events have come and gone, perhaps even lingered on, waiting in the wings for the next scene. But what I have learnt is to always *like* me first. Grasping this idea will lead to great revelations. Love every scar, every burn, every curve and discoloured imperfection, every pore of yours, because your body - and only you, the life force that is you - can emanate the energy field that only ☆you☆ possess. There are always going to be slippery slopes where you will encounter that ego that wants you back in its dark folds, but if you just believe completely in your own gorgeous light, you will always, always, come back to you. Yes, you, the life force that is you.
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