Went tonight with some "new" friends (Cincy Theatre/Carnegie folks) to see the movie "Free the Mind," (a film about mindfulness, meditation, and contemplative training for those suffering from learning disabilities and different forms of PTSD). Here is the poem we heard tonight:
Her hands were dusty with regret covered in the carefully accrued grime of last-calls and missed kisses of men half-claimed and desires half-retrieved.
Is it fear or common sense which drives her? Caution or the seduction of the chasm's edge?