You stitched my wound with a thin
string of moonlight and covered it
with a petal from a sunflower.
In my ear, you would whisper an
unusual song; a necromantic incantation
to make the wound hurt much less.
Oh mystical being, how can
time heal a wound as deep as this?
It must have been magic.
Magic to completely fix me.
YOU ARE READING
Within the Restless Mind: a book of poetry
Poesíaa collection of poetry.. written by me.
