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
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.
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