Pull aside the silk veil of the tent,
On this fateful eve,
Approach the chiromancer in violet,
Her face obscured by textile facade,
Offer your precious hand,
The map for your soul,
A blueprint of your potential future,

Your hand is a portal for eyes,
Eyes trained to read the weave of ages,
The lines and shapes,
Heart and head and life,
Signs drawn on to your palm,
From the planetary bodies above,
Venus and mercury and the sun,

It is a curious art,
Pseudoscience to some,
But reality to others,
It begs the question of your internal monologue,
Do you believe the reading?
Or will you take the reins,
With your own hands?

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Comments
  1. Oooooh. I like it. 🙂

  2. Have you done that? 🤔

  3. Carol anne says:

    very cool piece of writing! ❤

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