Little Resurrection Song
Ellora Lawhorn
Whether it’s a crowded room or a silent pond,
I know your soul, have met it a hundred times before.
Once we were the same goddess, same moon, same crater,
two sides of the same pebble now tossed into Abyss.
Marco Polo has nothing on us. I have crawled out of black holes
for you – even when you shoved me into supernovas.
I remember all of your names, recite them at night when the moon
calls me home – this is why I stay, this is why I survive
each revolution, am renewed by each apocalypse.
The spinning, the unveiling, darling, here’s our secret:
the last time I lost you, they asked how I was so brave,
not knowing the promise that makes me bulletproof --
your death and your return are nothing new to me.
I know your soul, have lost it a hundred times before.
I know your soul, have met it a hundred times before.
Once we were the same goddess, same moon, same crater,
two sides of the same pebble now tossed into Abyss.
Marco Polo has nothing on us. I have crawled out of black holes
for you – even when you shoved me into supernovas.
I remember all of your names, recite them at night when the moon
calls me home – this is why I stay, this is why I survive
each revolution, am renewed by each apocalypse.
The spinning, the unveiling, darling, here’s our secret:
the last time I lost you, they asked how I was so brave,
not knowing the promise that makes me bulletproof --
your death and your return are nothing new to me.
I know your soul, have lost it a hundred times before.
Ellora Lawhorn (she/her) is a queer writer and practicing witch from Northeast Ohio. She has had memories from her past life as a prominent historical figure since she was six years old. Ellora loves reading, photography, exploring bookstores, and meeting cats. She also writes mystery novels. You can find her on Instagram @ellrosewrites.