Into Her Hands

She took her life into her own hands, then she put it away again.


1. into her hands

Tuesday, she took it out to survey.

Four thousand, seventy two denials

And twelve half used perfume bottles;

It was a small life.

Easy to gather in ink spotted hands

And curl around her fingers in rings

Marrying every doubt-filled digit.



She had imagined wings or fangs

But there was no struggle, or hope

Or heavy dark grit.

She played with it,

Felt its weight and whirling.

Moon was glaring and expectant

When she put it away.

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