In the rain,
repair is complicated
and plans misplaced.
all parts are fallen,
sanguine and separated,
vulnerable to rust.
solitary fragments
wait for the miracle
of reattachment.
magic craves time,
sacrifice and surrender
to reanimate
this static wreckage
that still pulsates with dreaming,
and magic must be fed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem