Three wands
One is not finished yet
the gold is melted, but
the magic has not yet been found

The airy one is available
on call, to numb the pain
and the living one, made of wood
lies on my bedside table

as a hold with dying
before I pass away
The stories are told
my horses stand in front of the sea

I hesitate about the spell
and I am in doubt to let go
of the reins of my will
leaving the world to others

The waters break, they
flush around my bare feet
from the ankles to my vagina
they flow into me and out of me