 |
|
|
About This Author
|
☽ • ☾ • ☽ Miss Moirae hangs low tonight, her glow caught in the hush between breaths. She reminds me that even radiance must molt — shed yesterday’s brilliance to make room for tomorrow’s shine. I am no stranger to shedding. My heart has cracked in crescents, my faith frayed at the edges of night. Yet here I am — trembling, open — spinning silk from the wreckage, a cocoon of soft resistance. The light doesn’t save me; it changes me — slowly, wholly, as wings begin to remember the shape of flight. So when the dawn dares me to bloom, I rise — not as the girl I was, but as the glow I’ve grown into. ☽ • ☾ • ☽ |
