January 22 2019 — Lena Cole

When the moon casts the most radiant orange from its round waning shape,

Just as I’ve written about letting that spectrum in,

This is when I know magic is moving everything I suppose and don’t suppose to think of in.

All it takes is casting a belief and saying it

We are so much more powerful than we know

Linked to the moon now, feeling indivisible and included

In the prowess and process of all that she blooms.

What may happen when everything you worshipped about him

Is actually me

Is actually all that I create and breathe

What might happen when I lick the beauty of me and touch the magnificence of my skin in every moment I am conscious of gleaming

The grace from my own tones

My own groans my own bones

Mapping no longer

Enhancing and growing stronger and allowing my power once again into its throne

Into my groin

Into its home

Alas

I am who I’ve been waiting for

No man alone could set the divine note

To keep me at bay with myself

Only I may cast that frequency and know that the right men will pass the test

And enter me freely