Stregamoria

but, oh, my dears
nothing has changed
not really

the new world
is just
the old world
without the mask

and, so, my dears
you must change
and really

it’s only when
the magic is gone
you learn to make your own

-Stregamoria, 2025

the clock
has struck midnight
in sepulchral tones
and we are stranded
at this crossroads
with a pumpkin and his rats

as a cold wind
tears at these tattered rags
we once called dreams
our glass slipper
now heirloom proof
of class rebellion
(pass it down) 👇🏻

Nothing to see here, just testing out a tool for crossposting to social media accounts.