I was a burnt witch. A severed soul with a passion for the untold. I was left to lie in this womanly ash. Your religions and man made trash taught you a lesson you felt so true. So try, you left knowledge and gained ignorance. These early feminine creatures connecting before you knew connecting, oh they knew. So the moon. So your masculine gloom. So what, we want bliss. We want to dismiss this man made ignorance. We want love. You'd rather ash the dove. Yet you love to write how it flies, so lovely, in your inked books. Truth is let's create, let's recreate man, let's fuck, let's keep our luck, let's learn love. It's all starting. Your ending is its beginning. One day we will become past ways transformed into old graves. No shame. Let's live on Alaska. Because Nebraska was never well known. Address your own home. Up for the candidate for a minute that's not too late. Pull forward your own fate. A black cat candidate.
Xo ~ Alaska