hey mama let’s start over
I’ll be the turf
You be the nightmare
I’ll be the vetchling
You be the sweet
I’ll be the nomad
You be the spirit
I’ll be the cosmos
You be the aubade
I’ll be the limpid
You be the spin
I’ll be the razor
You be the hearth
I’ll be the sphere
You be the canopy
I’ll be the thief
You be the drill
I’ll be the control
You be the firmament
I’ll be the plot
You be the mother
I’ll be the south
You be the eye
I’ll be the blame
You be the doe
I’ll be the cairn
You be the portent
You be the veil
I’ll be the spine
You be the observer
I’ll be the harpy
You be the sod
I’ll be the goat
You be the gloss
I’ll be the heist
You be the cusp of winter
You be the war
I’ll be the flinch
You be the wheat
I’ll be the acid
You be the desert
I’ll be the horse
You be the switchblade
I’ll be the all-bad
You be the monsoon
I’ll be the early birth
You be the scorched earth
I’ll be the fire
You be the gravity
I’ll be the shed leaves
You be the moll
I’ll be the burr-hole
You be the experiment
I’ll be the acolyte
You be the scatter
I’ll be the moth
You be the clay
I’ll be the beam
You be the prize
I’ll be the forlorn
You be the absent
I’ll be the whim
I’ll be the stone
You be the nerves
I’ll be the fugitive
You be the vixen
I’ll be the scape
You be the goddess
I’ll be the ghost
You be the confessor
I’ll be the weather, turning
- Sundress Reads: Review of Under The Rain - May 6, 2026
- Project Bookshelf: Brianna Eaton - May 6, 2026
- Project Bookshelf: Tara Rahman - May 6, 2026
