Circumstantially blind, still searching for entry to the other side.

Attached to the scent of the Devine feminine womb, you can’t re-enter mines, longing to be reborn through time.

They think I’m a lost little kitten, who’s lost her mittens, beaten by the wind, but that’s a BigContradiction to what their actually seeing.

I’m a physician not a magic magician, my head is sound and I’ve always been anchored to the ground.