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“I just sit where I’m put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will come with bandages in her mouth And lick you clean of fever, And pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, And caress you into darkness and paradise.” — Louise Penny
I just sit where I’m put, composed
of stone and wishful thinking:
That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal,
That in the midst of your nightmare,
the final one, a kind lion will come with bandages in her mouth
And lick you clean of fever,
And pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck,
And caress you into darkness and paradise.