Shadowed Spriglets beaded One of them swore it

One of them swore it had twitched when it first came aboard

strung with the hush of water and the promise of magic

Will you step into the night and let the stars guide you

he does not take anything with him — no book

caught in the impossible: the rose waits

Shadowed Spriglets beaded One of them swore itIn a small crucible of copper and shadow, the tiniest conifers were laid, their needles curling as if breathing. The alchemist worked with precision, each spriglet an echo of forest memory, distilled and hardened, yet still alive with unseen currents. The ritual was of preservation of essence, of growth suspended, of the pulse of hidden groves captured in miniature. Under flickering flame, the copper glimmered like molten sap, and the spriglets