Another one from the vaults--ancient beyond reckoning. Okay, not that old, but old enough.
Tiers of Women
Steven RiddleThere is a churning
unreality
about everything she does.
A smoldering chaos
that folds
in tight coils in her wake.
The atmosphere is
charged by her
discharged by her
in slick
second-point
splits of light.
She doesn't know
where to go
or who to belets her soul
fly thread-bound
angel on its
silvery lead.
And wakes up
someone new
every day
forgetting the way
she used to be.©2002 Steven Riddle
