#106 – Woman Thirty Three

For_Francesca1

She is a bifurcated blur.

Part silent, part speed.

 

The split is

not torso cut from legs,

but a symmetrical divide,

left bone and right bone.

 

The design has cracked,

like the exoskeleton

of an old cockroach.

 

It tips,

it foams,

it drops open.

 

She’s a secret,
in her flowered dress,
witness to

the furnace,

the wardrobe

the yellow room
collapsing in slow motion.

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