I had a feeling the Oracle had another uplifting message for today. Mine was not what I was expecting.
She swims in madness;
round her feet roses play
bitter-thorned, blood red.
You you you
want the wind that sings on the skin
s s s s
and watch in the sun
while she sleeps in darkness.
A death blow, you said
in these petals that fall with the moon
to scatter on the sea
and you play music, for your ears not hers,
let her lie in her goddess gown.
She turns her face, hair floating, framed
I am the woman in the sky, she says,
through time and tides,
and my tongue whispers light
to banish your shadows.