Rhythmic curves display a woman.
Her silent cries, lay, last words spoken….

To him

Sightless lies, dressed up as truth.
Imprisoned by his prisoned youth
Yet she waits…..

For him

Seething at the brim,
Running from her own skin,
Betrayed again and again……

By him

Dark of night now greeted by the sun.
Nurtures revelations that what’s done is done.
She is Elevated with or……

Without him

By: Heather Stevens

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