Do you ever pray for morning, in the blackness of night? In the sourness of midnight contemplation?
Have you ever recognised your undying self, in the silky mirrors of June?
Her handwriting was neat, but her words made no sense to me, they were fuzzy, hazy, smoky - unrested.
Mind is quietening, wretching,
freeing herself of unquietened rejection.
Fall for a whim, dear witch,
and thy shall be saddened for always.
Fall for an apple, dear woman,
and thy shall be blessed
by the eternal snake,
that lives, and writhes within OUR BLOOD
I am your saviour, I am your carrier.
I am your niche and I am your cradle.
''To sleep now, would mean sudden death.''
WAKE
WAKE
Dear sisters,
WAKE
WAKE
AWAKE!
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