8.10.25
Of the tide—
moon-called, salt-shaped, sovereign.
The scales on my wrist are tempered gold,
symbols of balance, of justice remembered.
The language of currents,
and spells of silence
turning wounds into light.
Half water, half will—
whole Ocean.
The Empress of ebb and becoming.
Genesis 1:2 “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”
-Lele
Lele Muthali 