by Caitlin Copland
Galaxies are breaking from your skin, love.
Purple clad mystics, climbing stairwell veins,
to breathe the tides of your good graces.
Resting behind midnight blue arcana
crowned in sanguine stardust
pouring seeded life over this half moon diadem.
You are all things I am not.
Holding this pomegranate world
with open generosity,
calling all those in need to drink.
How could I not sacrifice gifts of awe,
be blessed with peace at the alter of your temple?
Universes are climbing from your throat, dear.
Artist: Luise B
Quietly honing her wordsmith skills, she has recently found her voice in the rich soil of the Rocky Mountains. With the encouragement of her partner and their fur family, she is actively working on self-publishing a collection of poetry and making her voice heard on topics that have impacted her life and story.