A flame, dancing rightly.
A flame by any other prettier name.
A flame to burn me to hell and back, and light my path to the etereal circles above.
Not the planets though for we now know better.
A song to be sung by the lips of someone else
Written by you of course...
Adequated definitely by me.
A smile to tear the world apart
And ironically heal at the same time.
The Hope given unto others
That I cannot give to myself.
A woman with a hundred names
A Moonchild of course among them
And yet just two in the end.
Names enough to pray a minor goddess into us.
I know I know
You won’t protect, you won’t remain
You’ll haunt as I let you do just that
To haunt, to stare, to exist.
Like a Goddess you’re around
Because I choose you to
I conjure existence unto you.
Chasing ghosts is my stuff.
The ghost of you just happens to have an avatar of a different, truer, less divine, more attractive even self.
I know and keep the prayers going all the same.
Keep the spell with my words and no longer the mirage of you anyway.
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