An eternal ache resounds in the rest after love is made.
An eternal ache resounds in the rest after love is made.
My cells emoting something primal and innately soul.
Oil-rich black sleek—cast of iron, salt scoured and seasoned. The fat of the land goldens your work and contribution.
Tongue sopping in ecstasy, throat slick, lungs emit— glistening, liberated inauguration.
That searing knife cuts straight to the core of it—facing truth from the belly of grief and shadows deepens us.
We are the alive bell tower, inspiration’s vessel ringing true.
The elements I need to burn bright my soul.
Entrance my soul from sleep into being.
The dark, once thought empty, brightens—lanterns a blur, softened exquisite.
We turn a fiery grave into God loving star.