1000 years ago, I saw you as a religious knight and I was a hidden hermit in the mountains. Rebel girl or reformed geisha or practitioner of witchcraft left reading too many scrolls.. don’t they know that women weren’t allowed to read all this heroism prose, not that long ago.
Whatever I’ve treasured wasnt a road not taken, it was a war on mentals and the metaphysical.
The flourescent scar that glows on my thumbs as I preach into notes, I’ve done this before.
Deja Vu, uncanny for two. And I am the unwise jousting in a court where I’ve been
Star Witness.
