tasting honey on those lips
blue in love with white
again
buzzing along now
walking�
(�..zzzzzzz-?)
she lays on the ground
in the middle of a supermarket
parking lot.
brittle legs
locked below
and hair at an angle
weathered skin scorching beneath
summer
hips that tremble and warn
(so much shame now, so much shame now�what can there be left but
the porcelain garden?)

rises slowly amidst the living
once more
walking�
old lady with a wig
home
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