Gently in my hands, I cup (Like my heart) a broken shell. A deserted robin’s egg, hatched Speckled turquoise, open, Fallen from branches, a cradle Rocked by the wind’s hands From the green canopy above.
Gentlemen born of Sparkle and cut Open to remove those Blasted ugly things Radiating with half Life and spring Practices.
Nestled pyramids, soldiers of sand, No servants hand, no strangers. No one died today, no saints Made. Cat wore the Ankh, Carried the dog headed staff, Drawing along the sea crooked to And fro on the sand, wand dragging
Cry for the little girl inside yourself, On the strength of my back with enough us both. You may seem an Angel to so many, too many who cannot See, And yet a sister to only one, the only sister to me.