The lavender edges begin to swim and teem and brim to overflowing as her fascination begins
lapping inside her brain~
like shards of pretty little pieces of broken bone china
all touching and not touching,
dangerous and lovely.
Wickedly pointed
yet somehow able to calm her anxious heart.
Anxious for the life she’s spent seeking what?
Might the shards be smoothed
as she fits the pieces of meaning-making
into a fine and noble frame of resolve.
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