edges are founding inside of my heart,
building until the sharp features give start,
bending my poise and ladylike art
they stab at my stance and pull wonder apart.
what permit gives rise to a vein shudder this
one shadowed and darkly, red tidings dismiss,
though heart beats so slowly amidst all remiss…
the edges are forming that lead to abyss.
oh God, let the woman to harken some heed,
listen, or take any balm she may need…
will You be the one that is the intercede
before all the edges fill hearts’ core to bleed.
©2012 Linda Willows
Photograph by Jaroskav Monchak