She spun a cocoon
The colour of a silent moon
Around what remained
Of her lost and un-gained.
She bound bone to bone
Stitched smile to song
And calmly coloured her cries
In the shades of reason gone wrong.
But when she saw
That her loss was a learning curve
And her being
Not a noun, but a verb —
She shed her silken armour
Turned her body to the sun
And remembered the shape of a hug in her arms
In time to embrace her battle undone.