Gift-Giving

He salts my air and drags me deeper into the ocean of my soul, and it all echoes Him.

Bare

I unfurl toward the light of a new day, hope in my heart, vulnerability center stage.

I was bound, boundaryless, not allowed them. Turn it into gold again and again—your own private magician.

I took the moth, and I took him up into me— and learned to carry them carefully: the final wand, the torch that’s now mine to hold.