she never knows the answers
for lacking balance
between her needs and wants;
spends a lifetime asking mirrors
"who",
ever aware
that those lakes hold no lady,
with sword
or otherwise
[ yet ]
which is strange
by the contrast of cuts
she's endured.
a thousand cloud-watchers
peer into her sky,
each finds a different shape
but of course, all perception
is relative
to the angle of skyward,
even her own
so - she has no answers,
just endless
and accurate questions ...
Silver trophy winner
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