The Soul Bell

I learned to call it the soul bell. She still rings when something resonates profound.

Seaside

Stars burn tiny holes in the fabric of the night and I exhale, the nerves leaving me into the bottle we passed around.

As I dust off and discard old relics, they come out—anger, pain, betrayal, the remnants of broken sobs and screaming howls.

The mind is a cathedral.

She whispered it’s in us—an earthly angel, fae-word, always connected to nature, her hum rhythm inside, twinkling, magnetic.

Sprinkles through the rains of the mundane—reminding me you are the magic.

I just wanted to love, and be love. To embody it, and help there be enough for everyone.

As it is, She owns my heart, and my body collides with Hers every night.

Her words marking me as they’d sprung from her internal world— exquisitely simple reflections.

I love creating something from nothing but the spaces inside me that need to speak and breathe.