TheFeatheredSleep – Shattered reflections
What they saw
was a fracture of four
or eight
kalidoscopic prisms divided
who knew how many parts constituted sum?
One
an accent, a way of holding herself, spine sharp against humid skin
the torn down dancer inside
they levied their best pipe bombs
you don’t know suffering, you don’t know duress
all your life you had it easy
they lobbed over the wall and
a part of her that wasn’t her at all
was gone.
She had so many pieces left
scattered like dried petals and torn out chunks of hair
each one held a secret
was violate for its succumbing
they had their edges of cruelty
a quota for destruction, she existed in the
erased margins, picking her way through fatigued debris
others baggage and make shift games
falling on top of her
close the suitcase
suffocate the girl
here is Wendy here is Jane.
She’s a kid…
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