Last Ditch

Have you felt invisible
Made from supernatural
Then unmade by someone’s lack?
So have some of us

We become as sunflowers, though
We watch for a flicker
We turn in accordance
We thrive in The Light

Repair

You’re not the tea type, to me. Ancient you aren’t.

You think you are. But I think you’re raspberry hot chocolate.

Take this endless cup. With my reckless invitation.

Delve. Repair into the wild, earthen past and the rich insanity ahead.

We, hot chocolates in hand, casting our cares. Setting a spell.