Wednesday, April 13, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #12

You can't tell by looking at her ... though the signs are beginning to show ... when she pauses in one place too long ... there is a mechanism of self acceptance ... the use to gather, grant, and capture on the face or in the eyes ... a haunting never seen there before ... "she had a look of thus and so" ... a patch slightly to the right and down a bit from her smile ... checkered promise of a wrinkle ... telling ten months from now ... that she didn't eat today either ... from the outside it all looks like blue jeans and suede boots ... comfort from the Goodwill reject piles ... a bright smile some claim is not her own ... and that crazy hippy wild child abandon ... if you can catch her riding red horses along the shoreline ... it all seems a little less sad ... for the children of light are running behind her ... urging her not to leave her begging bowl behind.

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