“I wish we’d fit the picture frame”, were words whispered onto a window covered in rain drops.
And if so,
would these hands still play with ebony hair?
Would there be arms to hold onto, strong but fragile?
Fragile in the end, but holding on,
although her shoulders escape the neckline of her dress?
The picture frame?
“If we’d fit the picture frame …” was a sigh into a purple shade of sky.
Would there still be bonfire flavoured kisses?
Would hair be admired?
Taken by the wind?
Blown into chaos?
Blown out of the picture frame?
“But if we’d fit the picture frame,
would I still be safe in those softest eyes?
Would you able to imagine our life?
Without blurring out?
Without losing focus?” , were questions for the storm.
“You’re so adorable, but I have not need for you”, was a truth spilled into a Caramel Latte.
Life tends to fly by
frame after frame
in well-known images
imagined and pictured.
“I admire you, but I can’t fit you anywhere”, was a truth to drown in a bottle of wine.
Being seen
meant fitting in those frames
that never fit them
or anything they touched.
“If we’d fit the picture frame, it would not have been us”, were words for night to fall.
A witch with no regrets
This night feels cozy.Midnight has passed.No sleep, but another cup of tea in vanilla scented candlelight.“Are you saying you have no regrets?”, my witch giggles. When I was younger, I was often warned that I would regret the things that I did. I remember being 10 years old and finally telling my family that I…
Heavy rain and zombie fire – A small town of resilience part 2
This is a hopeful post, although it might not look like it at first. Recently, the region I am living in is experiencing a historical wildfire, and it was getting terrifyingly close to the city that gave me a lot of inspiration to write my witching novel. The town is called Monschau, and who is…
What the stars can do to us
“Are you really lucky enough to miss out on a few shooting stars?”, my witch asks as I try to fall asleep. Well, who of us ever is? We had seen 6 very bright shooting stars, but I was getting cold and tired. Can I afford to sleep during the peak of the perseids? I…
Mistress witch writes 