Grace
the heavy woman
meanders in front of me,
wildly blemishing
the glorious
hypotenuse that i've mapped
out as my course home.
i kick some crumpled
paper in passive protest;
she pauses, then turns around
slowly, like a globe.
'i'm sorry' she sighs sadly
and then steps aside.
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1 comment:
oh. my. god.
this made me cry.
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