5.12 Part-2
If only there was a salve
our angels could smooth on our hearts
whenever sadness pierced
or ego bruised
or love broke;
and it would be a tourniquet,
an aloe,
and a cast all at once
But maybe the salve was the Tree of Life,
and the angels,
restricted from distributing the healing,
guard it with fired steel
instead.














Comments
I was gonna say something, but I forgot. ;~;
--
||+the days are not full enough+||
It's okay. I thank you for wanting to say it.
--
Where sorrow meet a silver resolution,
Where sunshine's gentle and refrains its rays,
Where there is no darkness--only shadow--
That is where I wish to spend my days.
--
||+the days are not full enough+||
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