Who is she really?

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A foggy glass box
Sits behind my eyes
Swirling mist conceals
my soul

Slip your nail under
the latch; prod and pry
Roses flame my cheeks
Smile

But the latch wouldn't
Break for you, I hope
It still won't open
even
for me
........................................
The lid floats open
A sliver too small
To see past the mist

Strain your eyes to see
You want simple, blue
Glinting sapphires?

Strain my eyes inward
To see what I want:
Unique, streaked opal

We want
Stones, Jewels
Do we
Realize
It may be
neither?





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