In the attic

she kept

a locked box

heavy with the


she needed

so that reality

won’t paralyze her;

a piece of the ocean,

aquamarine and shimmering,

with mysterious life,

a blue heartbeat .

Fragments of a rainbow,

that drifted in soft swirls,

and the songs of angles,

like echoes of dreams.

Every time she needed it,

a small sun expanding,

warmth next to her heart.

Until she opened the box

and miracles became ordinary

the songs of angles lost

and the sun inside her dead

6 thoughts on “

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  1. “the songs of angels lost/And the sun inside her dead.” beautiful poem, with a heartrending ending. Sometimes you do feel like that, like Pandora all anticipation and curiosity, only to find out that what was beautiful was all in your own mind.

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