Horizon

I like the colors of the sunset, the fuchsia pinks and russet orange. The creeping indigo and the over bearing black.

I hate the colors of the sunrise... the fuchsia pinks and russet orange. The springiest blue and glaring white.



I like laundry, fresh from the dyer. So warm, and fluffy, and sweet. It hugs me back with the promises of naps on a cold day.

I hate laundry, fresh from the dyer. All demanding, and cold, and creased. Reminding me of forgotten promises and my ineptitude.



I like the way my heart aches for you, when you're gone. I can feel it being ripped from my chest in sensual glory. It effects all my organs and bursts from my sobbing face... and aches... and aches...

I hate the way my heart aches for you, when you leave me. I can feel it being ripped from my chest. I feel nothing else, but the empty, empty, empty ache... and ache... and ache...



I like the way you ascend... In all the Goddesses glory. You have become the Universe, and the stars. The Gods light the night with your spirit.

I hate the way you ascend... When the Goddess took you away. To become pure Magick, and light, and dark, and love.