Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Almost Like a Life

Odd to feel
such delicacy –
barely held up –

threads
spun into random webs:
cross-hatched, thin,

haphazardly –
hanging
in a balance

which defies all sense,
and gravity:
silver, catching sun,

waiting
patiently
to be undone.

Reaching
for the glass,
she drinks.

Almost like
a life,
she thinks.







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