My Horns Are Showing: The Timely Ache of the Blood Moon Witch.
You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Put on the bone-and-antler crown I made for you, and I’ll grow my horns long to match yours.
Browsing Tag:
wild woman spirituality
This Is How We Rise: The Antidote to the Over-Bleached Wild.
Their eyes will get wild, and their hair will come undone. They’ll lift their chins and dig their manicured nails into their palms.
Mind Your Manners, Heathen: A Witch’s Table Etiquette in Five Rules.
You don’t need my permission to leave this table, and I promise not to think you rude should you gorge yourself on my bounty and leave the mess to me.
Pray Here Too: A Witch’s Brief Her-Story of Primal Communion.
Alas, you know as well I do, Sister, that the real prayers are not said in such sacred vacuums. Once, with legs spread in the final stages of labor, the midwife’s voice caught and her face went pale in such a way that I thought my precious baby doomed. I begged to every deity I knew, promising ...
Memories That Haunt, I Thank You: Begrudged Grace Under the Blessing Moon.
To the lover who left us behind to go wandering, thank you for leaving a black-hole void in our bellies that ached so persistently we had no choice but to fill it with our own molten power poured straight down from the heart-crucible where self-love still bubbled.
This Is What the Primal Feminine Smells Like: It’s Not All Roses and Vanilla.
The Primal Feminine is not pure, and you know it. Let’s show them it looks like thick-skinned substance and defiant eyes more than pastel wings and glitter.