My bosom is ripe
With seed
Cheeks plush
My blood rushing
Pulse hydraulic
Tempered by gestation
It is warm inside me.
Earth a median
Between roots hampering past
Crust and the perfect quest for life.
Round, robust
A volcano of ash and fire brewing beneathe.
Dutch oven and irons in the stove.
The beauty is in the vastness of her glow.
In her, she bares the High Priestess,
and the child they will know
As
"Dawn".
*Author's Note: Today is the Full Blood Moon in Aries. On the date of "The Star"*
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