Fausta and All of Her Silver
Spirit woman
Lacking in title
Stemmed from family
Missing at her own hands
Fear
names her
Fausta
they call her
She sold her soul,
they cry as the moon lights up silver
A spear
Ironic that she resembled what created her
selfishness of war
Stole her family
stole her body
ravaged her soul
The green of baba yaga’s forest
Like the spirit of the boy
dragging his torso across the verdant
staining the garden scarlet
The senator
cries with a final breath
to warn the neighbors
The green in his eyes
go out like a light
as the moon seeps in
blows out the roman torch
Fausta ran
east
neighbors north
She runs away from the brilliant green walls overtaken with dripping of scarlet
towers of ivory
A new cry
from the depths of the pit
where the waves crashed into the rock
Fausta hangs a silver leg off the edge
and she is falling
She isn’t human
she cannot die
She isn’t human
she’s already tried
Sand
under the metal plates
between her toes
covering a boy’s torso
his legs exposed
He couldn’t cover what was missing
He drags himself from the rocks,
green spirit boy
Fausta
Metal digits catch suspenders
Suspenders
useless without pants
that without legs
She carries him up the cliff
Cuts her human foot
She just got it back
Pain as foreign as the nerves she stood on
Sentenced for an eternity
until she learned her lesson
She has learned all but that
He needs new legs
She slips off the cliff once more
The silver remains of her leg
arm
face
Melds her own tragedy in silver
Creates a foundation for him
Seeing green in his eyes
Her leg is given back
They throw it into the ocean together
Builds an attic
the boy lives in the heart
Fausta thrives in the walls
in shelves of parchment she’s written
Together an arm is abandoned to the lapse of waves
The boy grows older
Fausta builds longer legs
Her punishment fulfills her
and she wonders
was it meant to be so
Finally
She gives her remains
The silver sends the boy to apprenticeship
They stand on the ledge
She passes on the memories
into his rough hands
Half of a silver mask falls
he throws it alone
She finally grows old
Memories shred her
Piece by piece she decomposes
in the arms of her family
roots of her house
The silver is transferred
He catches half a mask
Watches
Fausta crumbles faster than his eyes can see
and the boy holds nothing more than a limb of a willow tree
and a pile of silver
and Fausta is home