March 8, 2009

Her Art

She dives into it as if a river,
staying submerged until her
lungs are burning for the real
and is forced to the surface,
breathing in the stale world
in large, quivering gasps.

The tears in her eyes are all
but invisible to the mud-smeared
boys watching from the shore,
poking each other with sticks
and pissing in the bushes.


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