You show them to the mirror,
The only things you are proud of:
Your hands,
Small butterflies
Undone but beautiful as imaginations can create,

Oh such queenly magics!
Small statues fetching you memories they can best tale.
Such starry skies that rain deepness!

What powers lie in them ?
Could their art heal your heart?


Beautiful nightmares:
They tale brokenness,
Your...