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. |