She was handed a good luck charm
And she hung it over her heart
Yet found it grew heavier each day.
And whenever she found herself straying off the path, in the dark
It turned to smoke under her fingers
Slowly it took her sight for what was real
And left a nothing mist
Until she found she was filled up with a kind of blank poison
And so much to suck clean
A dream life that wavered if she looked too long
A wavering of knowing good from wrong.
So when she tore that charm away
She found that day was night and night was day.
Now she finds a consolation in the stars
And in her heart’s constellation of tiny scars.
A map of countless little feather wounds
Now soothed by wheeling stars and fattening moons.
For time is busy smoothing all mistakes,
And love returns abundantly for all it takes.