The door battered and broken, stood open.
The room was dark, cold with curtains drawn.
Chairs and tables were overturned.
The mirror was shattered into slivers,
the broken shards being swept away in the wind.
Escape, wrapped in gold and silver,
rested on her pillow. Magical and enticing,
like a secret lover in the afternoon,
bananas sizzling in butter,
or the soft smell of sea and sand.
She awakened as from a deep sleep,
seeing what wasn’t there before.
She gathered seashells and starfish,
built castles in the sand.
Driftwood became her fortress.
All the scattered fragments were gathered,
They were given to her whole again
wrapped in gold and silver,
laying on her pillow--
just within her reach.