A Stumbling Fine

August 25, 2010

Get away from here;
She’s frail.
She didn’t used to be.
She used to grin and laugh,
Now she’s brittle;
A ghost.

I want to hug her;
Tell her she’s okay.
But her hands shake
Like the dry leaves dancing in the wind.
I fear her pale skin
Will turn to dust at
My touch.

<em>I’m fine.</em>
She’s always fine.
Always has been; Always will be.
A timeless, never ending <em>Fine</em>.
<em>You’re not.
I’m fine.</em>

I leave, remembering the dry gash
On her left cheek;
The bruise on her eye;
The unhappy smile
<em>I’m fine.
You’re not.</em>

<em>I love you.</em>

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