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.


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