TheFeatheredSleep – Youth, Age, and the girl still there
You’re not leaving yet are you?
Girl with mango skin, every direction she turns
a kalidoscope of hopefulness in her smile
I notice how she wears her rings on her fingers like mine
that is because she is me
lost to time, a pull in a favorite knit top
the burgundy losing its focus as
it gathers holes
this is because she is me
bound to gravity and her weighty entreaty
toward inexorable end
a time away, yes, yes,
and nearer now than ever before
the steal of youth cloying on her dry hands
people slip her sweets and say: You are a doll
and she knows if she were a doll she’d be
able to affix the grimace all day and probably say
mama if you tipped her upside down
which is what she cannot say now
anymore than: I hurt, I cry, I feel
for she is passed…
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