She is queen of tormented soul,
She is the bones, broken and whole.
She walks and the roots are exposed and heard,
Though the wind howls in truth pain, she is undeterred.
When her heart whispers the night speaks back,
In sumptuous velvet words, silver and black.
The moon is her essence, reflective and still
Absorbing and releasing with the power of her will.
She is flesh
She is spirit
She is Goddess
She is life,
She’s soft as baby skin
She’s sharp as a slicing knife.
She gives life and takes it
In the blink of your eye,
She is power
She is woman