Untitled

Utterly down,

blue;

the pigment of the sky,

only deeper,

like a rainstorm gray.

Falling,

like the quarter the little Italian child

dropped from Pisa;

it landed five meters away.

Drowning,

in sad-colored garments,

hues of

emotions melded in cast-iron,

forming a sculpture

of deformity,

knocked off a table,

broken,

shattered

beyond repair;

dead

—and finally beautiful.

(C)Marie Meyers, 2013

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