Thursday, May 19, 2005

walk tall

with my mixed up bag of idioms
slung unapologetically over these
shoulders like a lean cow’s behind,
parchment skin tenting over sharp bones
that will no longer have to curve inwards
to protect this heart that beats wildly
with that fluttering fear in my breast
like a sparrow caught unawares
I will leave here, to return transformed
maybe, baby - one day.

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