Hearts of Blade and Steel
Come, Time: minister to her needs,
root up fruits that once were seeds
and carpet over her past with killed flowers
of many coloured coats. March on upon
petals with steel heart full of blades
and songs to shield yourself from mirrors.
Thicken her skin into leather hide
impregnable, and repel entreating throng
with words of little done does little wrong
while inside her head their burden swells
with stone eyes that look upon her long.
Come, Time: all’s well that ends well
it’s said, rest her thumping head on steel bed,
stained more, stained less in bladed dread,
steeled heart to stain Time’s tears instead.
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