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Heather Mirassou Mar 2015
I tap-dance on egg-shells in my ballet shoes.

They whisper across the floor.

Omitting noise that might entice a temper.

I find a hide-a-way in a hole.

My heart, soul and pen are

controlling the inner-chaos

with a key that empowers me.
www.poetrysoulcloset.com

— The End —