Chrysalis

CHRYSALIS Aspen Hansen

As the dawn of grief opens I can feel all of the arms of all those that cherish us weaving a nest where we can be still for a while.

I do not know what we will become here. In the small dark of our shells we are unbound and mended until we are more song and scar than skin.

I do not know what your name will feel like in my mouth tomorrow when the scars will soften how I will crack open into new truths.

All I know is that the sun is patient and that light does not die but instead sinks into our cold bodies without fear and becomes our warmth.

A cruel kind of miracle.