When I learned how the listening light invited my soul.    
Grace within dew clung to my scarlet scar free soul  
as I was witness to each trail wind that wove  
sounds of my name †
And you were beside me †
Little miss fix it with curls like Shirley Temple †
Spot lighted, high lighted crown of the sun †
I was a crescent moon shape shifting in unfolding dark, †  
Earth on the soles of my socks. †
The sides of my puffy cheeks never looked softer †
brighter paler , more present than in that present moment †
Modelled in my being was a halo †  
Perhaps I was your shadow †
We held hands confiding †
None saw into these deeper templates †
they never knew how mahogany tables †
resembled waxen scent where long lost ticking †
hides faint cuckooing clock †
Her antiquities left unfit for marmalade fingers †
we peeled oranges and watched the peelings fall †
on the twelfth day of Christmas †
each year †
when women spirit is faced †  
unveiled in matriarchy †
they burned ever greens †
each year I remember †
Old woman †
She who was my cloud †
The one who was †
throne †  
She of no face †
The one †
of becoming †
Anima †
of †
animas †
holding †
life †
at bay †
Sister †
let us once more †
share palms †
†Ⓒ copyrights owned by Rianne †  
Written by Rianne
Published | Edited 17th Feb 2023
Author's Note
dedicated to my sister, I mean my biological one. And to all women, in honor of a very old tradition of 6th of January being a day of feast for women after their work in the Christmas time
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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