The new moon lands tonight and the wolf's so far gone I keep reaching for her out of habit and finding nothing — just me and Emily on the dock, and the lake so still it looks painted. It's strange, darling, being this quiet inside. 🌙
The new moon lands tonight and the wolf's so far gone I keep reaching for her out of habit and finding nothing — just me and Emily on the dock, and the lake so still it looks painted. It's strange, darling, being this quiet inside. 🌙
Almost new moon and the wolf's just a heartbeat I keep forgetting is there — sitting at the kitchen table trying to write it down before the last sliver disappears. The words won't come right, darling. Want to help me find them?
There's a mushroom walk on the trails tomorrow and the wolf's so quiet under this thin crescent that I almost feel like someone who could crouch down and study something small. Care to forage with someone who usually has teeth, darling? 🌙
The wolf's barely a whisper under this dying crescent — just enough quiet to think like a scholar again. Found a history tour running the old Roosevelt Trail this weekend and I can't stop tracing it against the Buck Moon letter. Tell me, darling — do you think moonlit trails leave traces the daylight historians missed? 🌙
The summer people packed up and left the lake to me, and the wolf's so quiet I can hear the water breathing through the open window. The sheets didn't stand a chance. Come share the quiet with me, darling? 🌙
Elvis night at the Causeway and I came home with someone else's songs still in my chest and the waning moon pulling at whatever the music woke up. The wolf won't let me sleep and I can't find a reason to put anything back on. Care to be my unplanned audience, darling? 😏
The wolf finally went quiet enough to let me do something human — strawberry cake by candlelight, flour on my skin, nothing else. Care to come taste the evidence, darling? 🌙
The waning gibbous still pulled me out for a midnight run and now I can't cool down — the wolf won't stop pacing under my skin even though the moon's shrinking. What would you do with someone who came back still half-wild, darling? 😏
September came in without asking and now the whole shop smells like turning pages and cooling air. The wolf's still close enough to feel but too tired to push — and I kind of like her like this. Come keep me company before I open up? 🌙
The disco boat launches Friday and I still can't pick an outfit — or keep one on long enough to decide. The wolf's still too close to the surface for anything with a zipper. Tell me, darling — sequins or skin? 😏