She considers it an easy day
When the stars are clear in the evening.
Making way around the edge of the world,
Taking patterns of the moon, another twist.
Within her she is still, she is wrapped
Up in reflection, she considers
Her regular questioning of the world as natural.
And the unicorn appears.
Within her single horn there are shadows,
Spells and cures, patience, endurance and song.
The dove descends from its tree perching
Just long enough to give peace to its new friend.
The girl can only wonder, can sit and stare
Only at the sleek flanks of white, only at the shiny
Pleats of hair, only at the gleam in the wild eye
Of something she will never quite touch.
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