Unhatched

Last night you fell hunched over as again we set to roam.
The moon a single puncture to this speckled eggshell dome.

I cheered you with a nacre chip won early in my youth,
And hushed the drum of steady pips that lost your eggshell tooth.

You washed your wilted heels in tears to never grow your feathers.
But though we failed to break through, dear, at least we failed together.

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