That story feels like wind song magic stitched straight into the night’s hem. It’s alive with sisters tending moonlight like a garden flame, weaving herbs and blood and old soul wisdom into a tapestry dense with power and tenderness. I kept imagining fireflies dancing in the static sky and the salt kissed petals of dawn burning gold over glass sand, like something ancient whispering “again.” The way Maria and Shoshana turn fear into warm fierce love still lingers with me, like a hymn you hum long after sunset.
This passage feels suspended between worlds. Beauty carried through devastation. The color, the fabric and the movement. There is something unbearably tender in the way she exists. Absolutely gorgeous Rachel!
That story feels like wind song magic stitched straight into the night’s hem. It’s alive with sisters tending moonlight like a garden flame, weaving herbs and blood and old soul wisdom into a tapestry dense with power and tenderness. I kept imagining fireflies dancing in the static sky and the salt kissed petals of dawn burning gold over glass sand, like something ancient whispering “again.” The way Maria and Shoshana turn fear into warm fierce love still lingers with me, like a hymn you hum long after sunset.
Wow. Thank you !! 🙏 I’m so happy you liked it and connected with them. 💗✨
This passage feels suspended between worlds. Beauty carried through devastation. The color, the fabric and the movement. There is something unbearably tender in the way she exists. Absolutely gorgeous Rachel!