Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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She dips low, beauty ducking from view with flare and golden offerings, and the world sinks into the cold waters of shadow. All things fade from her light. Though she gifts everything life, it all recedes from her as rot and wilt. Were it only possible to keep her shine on failing skin and mind. Were it only possible for land to prosper under constant glow and not suffer through her absence. To occupy a realm dispelled of shadowy figures crowding shorelines, throttling fields and conquering mountains in their lonely dark; it’s the dream of constant affection, a fiction where deserts thrive with life and her blessings rain down without the need for balance. To appreciate her is to allow her release, to lie waiting for her return in the frost of her desertion and be thankful for memories of how she flooded days with warmth, care and nurturing light. She’ll return again, leave, surprise, burn, soothe and spin away, yet always back to chase away fears of her flight until the one day she arrives, fresh and bright, and shadows stick like oil in feathers, limbs unmoving, flight stolen, air still. She smiles in her dawn regardless for she always smiles. And her lovers reach for her, fragile death at the edges of her kindness. #irispad #day18 #sept18 #shadowy #shadows #dusk #reeds #pond #sunset #orange #gold #day #daysend #poetry #poem #sunlight #sun #writer #writing (at Don’t Go)

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