I give her the name of the hidden moon - David Whyte
For most of my life, I have hated being cold
Now I welcome every ounce of cool
Waking up, feeling the heat move from core to thighs
Prickles of sweat on my neck, upper lip, between my breasts
Rather than a flash more of a hot sw
Leaving me soaked
I imagine leaving a steaming eucalyptus sauna
On a cold winter night, a spark
Rolling my body in the snow
Like wrapping myself in a cloak of
Soothing lunar cycles, full and flushed
Drifting with the stars, back into restful
Content with the celestial
What is this veiled female form, the crone within
