Palettal Prose: Wise Woman’s Friend Gets Interviewed About How the Power Begins

sure she’s a little

different always was

the smallest kid in her class

looks into things

the way a needle slides

clean through scarlet silk

climbed a roof once

where the stars shot gold

into her sixteen years

I’ve heard her sing

on a stage with no one

able to reach her voice

she’s pepper on bread

she’s rain in December

she’s hair that curls beyond curl

catch her dancing

some silent Sunday:

she’ll spin your blood to joy

~Katharyn Howd Machan, We’Moon

Beautiful sensual women with white horse

Beautiful sensual women with white horse

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