She left me no where else to go, I found her body in the cold. The feet were bound, her hands were tied, I thought for sure this child died.
I released her gently from her pain, I picked her up and carried her away. I brought her to my Father, who with a steady hand, motioned I place her back upon the land.
I shook my head, for I didn't understand. This child has died, is this not the plan?
From behind me shook a teetering flutter
For in the room there was another
Identical to the one in my arms
But without cuts, blood, and scars.
She smiled at me, as if not to alarm.
And turned to my Father, who stuck out his hand.
She took it in stride, like light fading away.
Into the night sky I saw her soul slip away.
The body in my hands, stupid-alive.
It wreathed and screamed out,
As if not knowing why.
Father finally saying,
"She cannot die."