when i hold that molten light between my palms i wonder if that golden balm was netted in ancestral fingers to soothe away the fear of never ending winter with the primal warmth of the memory of dawn.
February 9, 2021
when i hold that molten light between my palms i wonder if that golden balm was netted in ancestral fingers to soothe away the fear of never ending winter with the primal warmth of the memory of dawn.
February 9, 2021