my dagger heart of magic and a handful of extraordinary daily routines

there are always two sides to things.

and always just one dice to throw in order to claim

at least seven points

seven full moons

seven glassfuls

and seven shattered desires

so you go and play your hand, count your chances

say goodbyes you don't wanna say

recite a backward salute

and seclude

in a space where no light enters,

no remedy works, and no past is found

in this you float, knowingly;

every time you lift a heel

what once held your weight disappears

in that lonely saturday dawn embrace

every step repeating

the endless gesture of deleting

so you're conscious

you're not only leaving behind

you're missing a chance

of that one dice showing only one dot

you're leaving me, my dagger heart of magic

our chance to make it through

whatever world we may have inherited

with beautiful, bright-morning-light-intensity

and a handful of extraordinary daily routines