I’ve mined my heart for you until there’s no gold left. There she lies, carved with diligent hands, an empty shell where once she brimmed with treasures freely shared
But I will fill her once again, find my tools and repair her tears. I will feed her persimmons and pears, laughter and adventure and tell her tales…of love that nurtures and love that heals.
And then I’ll open her once again to one who will kiss her beautiful scars. She will know, by the touch of his soul, that she will never be stripped bare again.
She was born to shake the firmament, to swing her hips and dance to music that only the wild things heard. She was born of the dark moon, the howl of the wolf; the whispers of her ancestors in her ears. She was unstoppable, a force of nature, the twinkling of the stars, the storm and the calm. She is the primitive call of creation from which all things come.
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