Periwinkle aliens piss me off. Get your saucer off my lawn. You don’t pay rent. (None of my neighbors fear an alien invasion thanks to me) The prowess of a dragon fly hunting inside me is matched only by the wolves that hunt beside me. I wear a ballgown to funerals and black to parties. Sometimes, my personality rips at the seams a little, a frayed strip of rainbow fluttering in a recalcitrant breeze. Who will carry me home after a night carousing with the coldest stars?
Miniature Moon 