she walks with her eyes closed,
heels skating over an eggshell happiness
played up by a clear sun,
heart waiting to crack into a thousand
tiny pieces: of vessel, betrayal, muscle,
blood; to crash through roadblocks and
withdrawal and the thin layer of cloud
separating salve from salvage,
this moment from the next.
the tenth muse 
Everyone who has been absent seems to be posting as of late…But you dear Lady, I always wait and hope..Beautiful……Again…But of course.