the dusting of cherry red, the burnishing, and the cleansing of love and joy
some days the sun is just a dull enough shine that my soul feels it has a chance to shine like the sun
some nights the moonlight casts a shadow on my pallid parts and a glow in the deepest cavities of Me
these days, i dig my heels into the earth, stirring and kicking up dust over the cherry red.
these days, it’s beauty holds a half burned match stick to my raging forest fire.