Tuesday, February 16, 2016

a young girl comes dancing ...

a young girl comes dancing ...

in an alley just off a main street
she piles her life
high into brown boxes of broken dreams
and looks wildly
into the failing blue light of another
sour winter morning
she shouts something obscene
into the swirl of cold, heavy air
shouts again and then again until
the blade of her voice
splits the grey day like a brittle wafer
and from between the jagged edges
of that empty crack in time
a young girl comes dancing



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