The Lady Artemis

I heard the trill of your voice

Crashing ungracefully through the night

Not a moment ago,

Coming in with the moonbeams

And the dust.

Out in pursuit of

The hunt again,

Milady?

It’s comforting

To know I’m not the

Only one.

You are the chosen deity

Of adolescent girls, you know –

And we worship you because

You are youngness,

And innocence,

And the times we

Buried ourselves in our mothers’

Clothing and breathed you in

And there was nothing in this world

But women

And the smells

Of divinity.

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Thoughts? I love those.

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