
tipped away from a point
marked charm, by way of laggard's retort
to her musty motion then pitched slick
as slime on that old, suddsy, incline—
flap: now memorialized under dust;
it's a break down
of hubris: remember
her slate face? we're told,
now almost faded is pretty
impossible to excavate
but she: undoubtedly is still
stunning to behold. of course,
some charming varieties were common
then, in fact, may be welcome still
'though rarer at this shattered juncture
of our collective experience
in its wake, it's still a quandary
if she favored capers over love—
pointed daggers as shields
that reinforced bulwark;
"excess of any sort
mars judgment, spread to the mouth
regards rot" is how i define it
still.
2 comments:
I read this four times. I'm still marinating in it. Even for the image...I think this is not about a woman. But...what?
"shattered juncture of our collective experience" and the inevitable wake.
Annie, hmmm ... history, to begin with; an attempt at a definition of sorts, no?
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