& yet.. at times I still feel helpless
childlike in rags & ruins
forgotten in the daze of existence
...he was born of silvered reveries
featherless wings of fallen angels
hellbent on living for love
& he knows me as love
a dizzy chaotic of earth & heavens
rapture & life
he is the moth & I am fire
he is breath.less
I am.. less
less than a woman who wakes knowing this.. mortal shell is merely a soul's vessel
who knows that love saves..
that death.. is rebirth..