Chaos suspends her.
She stands still like the hummingbird,
furiously beating wings
that take her no-where.
Wings that are heavy,
ripe with alcohol, they drip
medication,
discontent.
She floats there,
still born in ataxia
lifeless and perfect,
like a hummingbird.
Comments
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wow, this is heavy and startling in its somber observation of a still born child.
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