[But here I go again,
tension in my head and my hands.
The ground shook for the longest time,
uneasy knees and yet ready to stand.]

Your heart she’ll reach out and grasp,
but turn around and reach back: no, no,
because her heart is sealed with a golden clasp.

She tucked it back deep, locked in a chamber.
Shiny new box, shrouded with drapes, neatly tapered.
Beneath her thin layers of flesh,
there’s a room there
pulsing safe and petal red.

How is it that a woman so beautiful,
grew up knowing nothing except to be dutiful?
How did it happen that a girl whose fiery expression,
is stuck here with us mortals instead of gazing upon us from heaven?

Standing there– every day I do dream–
Playing over and over that fitful scene.
The cars were whizzing by, and the people did indeed stare.
The wind seemed to know exactly why we were there.
It blew harder by the minute, casting tears in the distance.

This beautiful woman before me, held out her hand once.
Her smile sent my heart [again] on a Geronimo plunge.

[Gazing upon her own reflection, she’s cursed to see nothing but

-But if you were to use my eyes as tiny mirrors, you would realize that
everything I see about you is beautiful.-]

She turns away from me now and strolls in another direction,
her long hidden wings dusky; shimmering perfection.
If only my dear could turn and look behind her,
she would see she already has everything she needs for survival.

And if she had, she would know that her brilliant wings had unfurled,
that she had the strength to fly away and never return.


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