The evening and night skies have been a Pantone book of color as of late due to weather phenomenon and celestial alignments. Every tone of blue, bonfire and smoke. Rarities like us. I feel like a moth with tattered edges circling a blue-eyed votive flame. Nature may be stroking the sky with her best but when words set me ablaze into a shade that rivals hers and the color of my hair like no other? This is ritual in its most alchemically visceral form. There’s beauty in Our dance.
And the burn.