A sort of denial rapes her face
walking toward the glass door
gone broken.

Falling

Cover your eyes little one
no need to see the disco
lights from the squad.

Crying

Feet flying out from under
her pink cotton tunic
worn a tinge thin.

Helpless

No answers for the problematic
equations.

Not even a ringing telephone.

06/16/2003

Posted on 06/17/2003
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