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Stone giants stretch fingertips calibrated to the

in circles, in crops, in rings of fat mushrooms that

open portals to another life


a life I dream about beneath the waking moon

who sings lullabies to the restless 

who promises tomorrow isn't promised

tomorrow is another chance

to bloom 


to follow the crooked path left footed & cloven

hoofed, stumbling against 

rocky landscape of the dichotomy that we face

every morning when we wake


Between waking & the oblivion that consumes all

the parts I try to hide

who coughs them out one by one each a hard

marble round & slick with spit 


it's a game, it's all a mystery but we play anyway

churning together 

caught adrift in the uneven tide, the moon pulls too

hard now shaking us awake 


& tomorrow's here the sun stirring at the heelstone

casting shadows 

I fold into them cool as night, press myself against

sarsen pillows 

inhaling the fading starlight


Lexi Knott is a poet, silversmith & witch living in Edinburgh, Scotland. Her latest work has appeared in Black Bough Poetry, Hecate Magazine & more. Follow along on Instagram & Twitter: @naiadpoet

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