When I was good, I was a sensitive and sweet-blooded Witch indeed. My ethics were impeccable, and my magick was so diamond white it could blind an angel.
This is me, in all my bare-breasted and stretch-marked glory. My wine-soaked clothes have been shed, and this is the rawest version of my body I’ve ever known. May my soul’s new shape be forged in the milk-white beams at moonset, and may this birth-by-lunar-fire be a short journey from shame to ...