Tiny Magic Everyday : 9

by Katyslany

I couldn’t even flinch my finch,
We have so many years of missing of nostalgia of the mono no.
The wabi sabi tree waiting for us to grow it and grow our books and volumes.
We are writing.
The manifesto of Primordial Romance.
We will grip our hearts to give them wings my dove
We will see into our minds and our teeth will chatter until they sing the songs of paper heart birds.
We will wet the hearts of every sweet honeysuckle.
We will build our bones to the sky, reaching and hunting for our transcendent home
We will find home in the recklessness of our hand in hand
We will look in the window of eachother’s faces and take our lives to make more.
We will birth ourselves back into light
We will eat the poison of holy plants and grow back our roots
We will count the stars and the cycles of the moon and at every one we will hold hands, look up and sigh, facing one direction together, the desert , the riverbed the mountain.
We will pour our beauty everywhere
We will have good ears, and be good listeners
We will let our feet shift beneath us, non attachment to place and space
We will get slick and messy with pain (t)
We will paint eachother. as much as possible, bird wings licked onto skin, seahorses and wind chimes.
We will take eachother to the ocean when we are sad.
We will not stop.
We will end
We will begin.
Wake up in the morning hearts clutched hands woven
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Katy

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