Witching Hour: Snippet

In my daydreams, I am cuddling the moon and gluing the stars to form constellations like the connect the dots puzzles that arrived in the newspaper every Sunday.

In my daydreams, I am ice-skating on the slides of the piano in a park of night blossom flowers where you told me about the chaos theory. You told me how existence is a butterfly effect cycling through liquefied rainbows and how we are specks of kaleidoscope clustering together to form patterns. The light of these patterns is so alive that it blinds you at the witching hour like a magnesium ribbon in the chemistry lab.

In my daydreams, I am wearing a velvet dress, sweeping across Jupiter’s moons, breathing life onto the alternative universe of my favorite YA series like pixies breathe glitter.

In my daydreams, there are golden-clementine leaves in my hair as I stay up all night gazing into the Northern Lights through a crystal ball that my mother brought from a lady at the fair after a lot of bargaining.

When they ask me why I have fucked up sleep schedules and don’t sleep. When they think the blooming shadows under my eyes are bard tales of nightmares.
I wish I could tell them that it is not the nightmares I am afraid of, it is the time I am afraid of losing, the time where I am alive. Every hour I yearn to be alive. Every hour is my witching hour.

//”Witching Hour”// Enigma

Copyright © 2016-2021 Enigma. All rights reserved.

Picture Credits: Enigma (Inktober 2020 Art Day 5 Blade)

Art Inspiration: A surreal dream of rollerblades on a slide of piano.

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