She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.

The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.

Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour

Limit-
the
hidden clown

A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.

Each point
reflected
twice.

Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.

A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.