Alexandre Moscibroski da Silva
She was Santa Muerte, the White Girl upon her altar I watched from on high, from my throne of stardust, when the Sonora wind began to whisper, smelling of burned copal and pure sorcery. I saw the goddess who was neither shadow nor daylight; she was Santa Muerte, the White Girl upon her altar, majestic, walking beneath a black cloak that swallowed the moonlight itself. And her feet of pure bone left no tracks on the ground, yet made red cacti bloom in pure exaltation. On that night, the moon was
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