Her life is a gamble. Entangled but shiny .:. clean.
Waves become wings become cracks
become wisdom become calm.

Let me tell you how and why

.:.

Part I:  Fillette .. Salto a la Comba

White roses, she jumps.
Tra la la life is a skipping rope
sending waves like a happy drunk ocean

.:.

Part II: Femme Fatale .. Black Wings

Black wings, she flails.
Forty masks hide life’s holes.
Bruises become rivers become hair become riddles.

.:.

Part III: Vielle et Belle .. Coneixement

Mirror, she explodes.
She knows everything .:. She has cracked open.
No need for wings [for masks], for waves [for roses].

She looks and sees and drinks her angst.
She holds her face and her face is time.
Time is broken and won’t hurt again.

Time is now and is beautiful and is mine.

.:.