She entered my life much like a fucking meteor, a walking extinction level event with big brown eyes and curves in all the right places. Her voice was like music and her hair smelled of mango and hibiscus, and her presence was a gift.

Standing upon the precipice of futures gained and lost, sharp and painful memories of lives unlived and stories untold.

Chances taken and fortunes squandered.

The strawberry moon glows and hums. I pray to her for clarity, for sacred reunions and bitter truths.

A bruised heart, the echo of an empty shell, the ticking of a celestial clock.

Confusion and fear, clouded visions of an uncertain future.

Pray for me.