She stumbles
in silence
to her
love's
death
kneel.

her pride
will not
let her
fall..

her spirit
not quite
as true.


her eyes
so distant
and so
small.

again the perfect
lover before her,
broken
and shattered,


like fine
Ming china
at her
feet.

under the
belly
of salt
and pepper
paper
mache clouds,


the rain
has become
the tears
lost
from her
eyes.

soul buried
deep,


still.

seeking
nourishment
biding time.

cocooned
in the fight
to find
herself.

and a
dream that

someday must

come
true.