What Lucy Knew

I know what I have seen, where I have gone.
I’ve stood confused in the mid-summer snow.
I’ve picked up paper parcels for a faun.
You can’t deny the things I really know.
You can say that I’m lying. It’s no lie,
but how can I convince you that it’s real?
Your hands meet wooden panels. You see no sky
opening through the branches you cannot feel.
What made the magic stop? What made the doors
not open on the same Narnia twice?
You tease me I’d find oceans in the drawers,
but your dishonesty is not my vice.
Well, doubt me if you will; these things exist
and always will, even if they’re dismissed.

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