sharp edges

Left in tatters - breathless but ripe 
Overpowered by mimicries of life
She's bending left-and-right
A lonesome warrior 
Currently in flight. 

Looking for buttons, pins, amenities
Porcelain, jade, and glass, fragilities  
Under the sinful sky - she finds
A plentitude of banalities.

In the dark - touching edges 
Of chairs, tables, shoe-holders
Impeccable equilibriums 
In her room - ever so dim
She gently caresses 
Every sharp brim. 

On her knees - she bends to life
Embracing her unborn progeny
She indulges one last time
This epiphany of stories 
Unwritten - unknown - untold
Of the sharp edges of our world.

More poetry...

© Jeta B Photography