she-ra

oh dead girl,
gone all these years,
yet so much remains.

taken by frozen water,
spit up again, unwanted,
you continue your ways.

i see your patterns in pod,
stored in boxes or strung up high,
some done and others unfinished.

i saw your mischievous grin,
or -- perhaps -- i fanced it,
from the corner of my eye.

there were papers, though,
so many,
recently found upon years of storage,
me thinks the key to the mystery is unlocked.

the book can now be written,
the phrases tell themselves,
the story unravels,
your tale is told.

but should it be here --
where i've fallen by the steps,
things scattered, head struck, arms scraped?

or should it be by the river,
where the walls protect and i'm
an unknown, seeking shelter
from the past and a future to start?

sing your song,
let the notes come forth,
let me hear why.

dead girl, dead girl,
sleep gentle,
your things lie safe with me,
the keeper of your tale.