Magic box

Waking Up
Still not
Really

Continual
Dreaming
Sunshine
Reverie

I’d rather
Focus
On that
Than the
Pain
Inside of
Me

So I weave
A story
Through
The waters
Of my body

Each microscopic
Mineral element
A spot of ink
On a paper story

All the pretty
Stationary
Perhaps some
Inspiration

Unicorns & rainbows
Stars & centaurs
Pinks
Blues
Peach &
Sour candies

Liquid chocolate
Elaborations

In the end
Words don’t
Come from
Mouth or mind

They come from
Somewhere else
An ornate box
Buried deep

Inside

A magic box
Filled with
Folded
Messages

Silver tales
& histories
Lost pieces
Scraps
Of poetries

Printers
Paperclips
& pretty
Journals
Invisible
& filled
With things

Inside this
Place this
Box this
Planet
Hidden
Deep
Inside

An ocean
Of waves
Celerity
Measured
Upon
Broken walls

Magic
Opening
The box’s
Lid

Emerging

Pieces of

What lie

Within

© Niliema Karkhanis


Authour’s note: a poem for day 25 of a month of poetry 2021.


Featured image by Paweł Czerwiński from Unsplash


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