Bury my scalp
with a shroud of love
In a sweet folding
layer upon layer
Bury my head
deep in the ground
Let no light be found
This growth must be done in the dark
My eye, my teeth,
my skin, my soul
No one sees
No one knows
Bury my hands
with no twine, no binding
They have work to do
in the depths
I’m weaving something
Warp to weft
This too must be done in the dark
There is NOTHING wrong with night. There is something powerful about the difference of shadows. Truth melts magic, and just because there is evening, dusk, dark, and midnight, doesn’t mean there is no light shining. Let’s go there. Let’s show up. Let’s let the line within us shine, down down. And let the