Her Gift to You
She used strands of her golden hair
As thread,
To sew the pieces of her heart
Back together,
Her flesh as a blanket,
To keep him warm,
And her bones
As reinforcements,
To keep the house
From crumbling down.
Yet, as he holds the remains
Of her body,
Dearly,
Like an heirloom
Her father passed down to him,
He wonders,
“Has she always been this small?”
Poem by: Fin
