The tiny golden bell
woven in the threads
of your heart rings
each time you ache, far away
on your lonely journey
of bravery.

Pull its slender cord
in the moments before waking,
at midday, when you drift
in shadows  full of promise
and dark edges.

It speaks joy
when your mouth is cold,
to those you do not know
how to greet, to those you’ve left,
their own bells chiming
just under the skin.

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