Quarter-Life Crisis

Jun 15, 2005 20:57

Arrest

A scissoring pain
shrieks, rips open her iron back,
nails her to the floor
        in an orange blur.
Stunned,
she falls like a coin of moonlight
        on silk.
No more will the bones allow.
She clutches a cup of sleep--
a promise of polished quiet
is a cherised possession.
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