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Why?
By Harvey K. Slade

Why?
She
asks
and
the
answers
are
so
many
that
I
have
none.
Ink
and steel
and scars
and eyes that defy description…
Yet in my mind I watch-
The graceful lines of her muscles soften and fade,
Her hair loses its touch of purple; an aspen leaf in a converse autumn,
The piercings become as water, slithering down & from her body; a brief shower of mercury,
The tattoos peel from her pale skin; minute black butterflies that drift away like a cloud of smoke,
Her eyes grow bright with the light of her spirit until they burn a pure white devoid of all color.
I watch all the accouterments of fashion and experience fall away, and,
still,
she is so beautiful that the words will not come.




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Document last modified on: 04/02/2006

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