My Beloved

My Poetry

She clasps her hands gently, and those of the beast within
soothing and caressing the bright teal veins that flow hesitantly to unseen lands
charred sapphire fragments glimmer above patterns hidden under calloused skin
and she stares blankly at nothing
waiting for no one

And with sparkles and the glamour of an unseen foe
the curtains against her face move aside, her thick hair like royal robes of violet
the dreams in front of her she seemed to have lost long ago
show their true colours
and she stares ahead in wonder at her fingers
numbness forgotten

There is a reborn splendour
a bright swollen bloody reminder
an engorged crimson and golden organ
serenading her soul

The harp has started playing
now it won’t stop.

Her heart has mended whole.

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