Through fingers of ice I feel my heart leap
I tried to hang on, but still it slipped from me
Oh words of comfort come to me now
Help me scrape the bits of my heart off the ground
I try to stand up like a tree standing tall
Sadness sticks like honey to my hands and lips
Coated in sweetness my insides are bitter
No velvet tongues or silver sighs can break through
Let happiness grow slowly from within me
From honey and velvet my heart will once again beat
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Lacuna
Poetryla·cu·na [ləˈk(y)o͞onə] NOUN an unfilled space or interval; a gap. Poems of 2017