Once Upon A Time
with paper strips
Her tongue was tied:
exploring the streets and alleys
of a mouth and a
mind that's closed
-the conflict and sinking-,
picking locks to lost doors with
fingertips sharp and anxious
for purpose,
exchanging shapes and colors for
thingsalittlemoreuncommon.
Laser eyes intent
on drawing out a line
between the free blue skies and
the vibrations of an understanding.
Held loosely and feebly
coaxed back to sanity,
who could blame her?
Rolled away in a dream
towards a goal of never waking,
"If I never wake up, then this
is my reality."
What words are these that stumble
out between lips once secure?
Never before, nevermore, a fool
for clever lines strung clumsily
and unsure.
And now with words,
walking alone ,
observing things with a little bit more dignity
and a little more appreciation,
there she lurks,
slyly in sheltered "safety."