Wednesday, March 19

The Puzzle of She

Curved edges, sharp
angles fit,
don't fit
hands won't sit
demurely on her lap

fingers clasp, unclasp
twist the platinum band
round and round
like the carousel
of her life

jump, don't jump
off the white steed
onto black tar pavement
where shattered pieces of
fun-house glass no longer distort

she leaps!
reaches down
with trembling hands,
gathers the shards of her life

she'll spend the afternoon...
the rest of her life
putting together the puzzle
of she again

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