Mass of tangles, curls and stones. Sanguine
pedestals, happy to remain unknown,
busted limericks and claustrophobic schemes, full of
Never lands,
Never haves,
Never beens
Yet still you twirl in dirt stained
skirts and….
“You forgot to smile!” they
whisper with candy lipstick sneers (smiles
when painted wrong)
“Poor unbalanced dear.”
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