Bree Morena de Santos
Jan 6, 20191 min
The moon was new,
mistakes erased
Tears streamed down her cheek,
her contentment was prudent
Hopeful for dreams to come true,
for buried intentions to be realized;
or ensue
Illuminated by the eclipse for a brief moment,
for her heart was open;
but just as quickly it retreated,
like the moon in its mystery
She spoke of little words;
as she was in a foreign land;
for her tongue has been lost,
deeply and within
She wept at the idea of an ending
Her intuition enveloped her,
emblazed,
feeling of warmth,
with a smirk,
she is not lost
Waving her wand,
for she was answering her right of birth.