Do you crave my wisdom like the salt sea air? Full of ancient riddles, knowing forgotten lands, thick with symbols of the first night on earth. Before the dawn broke and the battles waged, before the relief of light. When you thought fear only lingered in the dark. Before your heart jumped at the shadows and came to know the sun doesn’t care about sin. Do you crave the love in me that knows no end? Or the way the spells send themselves to the deepest root, pouring like wine, free like a nightingale on the branch? Don’t you want to know how it’s done? How one can get up again and bring the fire with them. Maybe. Maybe, I’ll show you this alchemy. How the dirt turns to gold and back again. How tears become jewels when the right words are whispered. How time is a mother and a friend. Maybe, I’ll show you, how pain becomes poetry, paper becomes a weapon, glitter a shield, pen a prayer, while the candle flames bend. And then, and then, you might know, how much rage it takes to be this soft.