Silky soft hand cradles her face. Skin pulled tight, white
as a clamshell. Fear on her countenance, a billboard
on the highway.
Endurance mounts. A climber looking up, up, making
firm decisions about footing.
Marbles crash to the floor, a thousand
bounces of glass. This spell breaks the hold
of tradition tied in square knots against her back.
The sound of hard rain that won’t let up. Abruptly
the soft hand pulls away, even as her gaze holds
ever skywards.
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