Monday, March 19, 2018

valediction.



daylight slips across the smudged
walls of an empty room, when you find
yourself twisted in an echo, afraid of north and
dragging south, when your entire life is
at your feet, two pieces of stone abandoned
under her pillows, when another year
presses your skin with fierce fingertips, her magic
will fall softly parallel to another, when you
tell yourself you are a solitary being,
she will still send you pale light with
hints of sandalwood and lavender



© 3.19.2018 heather brager






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