Her hands,
otters smoothwrithing
over one another.
Her eyes,
cracked shells
of bleary blue.
Her entire wardrobe
worn at once, layered
cake of threadbare grime.
Sparse hair
that might recall blonde
through the gray.
Her words
a barked aria of
alien post-meaning.
Stop staring, stop
listening; she won’t stop
being.
Dark Matter 
December 2nd, 2011 at 4:06 am
Lost for words – this is so raw and emotive, you used few words well. (Sure you know that already) Just wanted to say I appreciate.
December 2nd, 2011 at 8:43 am
Again, thank you — and thanks for reading.
December 1st, 2011 at 9:50 pm
Hey Tony Brown, I’ve nominated you for the Versatile Blogger Award! Your blog has inspired me, and I look forward to reading more. Visit http://millieho.wordpress.com/2011/12/02/the-versatile-blogger-award/ for details.
December 1st, 2011 at 11:52 pm
I’m humbled! Thank you.