cocoon (mercy dream #5)

rumbling,
ambient billowing,
from far away
a train approaching,
and inside, her frame
baroque and
spinning elegantly,
 
a pearlly-white shell,
hoisted, suspended
in thin air, spinning
until it comes undone.
 
*
 
she arrives in time to emerge
at dawn, and the morning
birds sing a song
with her in reclamation,
 
soon even they learn the brass
of her tongue,
and the bells of her lungs,
snippets and sonatas,
the treble cleft
of might,
 
 
her voice hidden no longer -
 
the whole world over
now bleeds her songs.