The beady eyes of a white dove stare
Blank, wide, tired, blithe
She walks in circles; waits for attack
Oil spills and dirt on her back
Smeared, soft, stolen worth
Bruised her wings and
Swore her to earth.
Down her head hits the street to rest
Fluttering heart is sick, at best
Beady eyes stare wide awake,
Eyelid's black won't shut the ache
Stomach, knot
Throat, hot.
Deluged with sweet, embittered thoughts
She lays her head on the street to rest,
Where all that's hard is comfortless.
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