small truth

August 29, 2010
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confession in practiced whispers
lies quietly in her hand
a fragile heart
ceramic and flushed
with not so distant
of his eyes agaisnt her bare skin
She walks, smiles lining her face, feet
shy of him
her small truth hides just
behind the small of her back
where she could still feel the
heat of his touch in passing
As she strides in his direction,
his eyes cast perpendicular
to unforeseen shadows
cloaked there,
another girl.
the carefully crafted creation
and shatters
unheard in the dust of its creator's
broken path.

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