Life taught her well –
hide beneath pretty
packaging, paint sleeves
pink like brittle
.
fingernails to ward
off the curious
and offer a semblance
of heart without
.
engagement. Scars
mean band-aids,
amateurish wrappings
to disguise the terror
.
of being known, the
risk of offering her
self and finding that
she is not enough.
You let it all hang out,
nouns, idioms,
dangling participles,
taking a chance on
.
the conventions of language
to underscore your point.
Your openness spills ink
onto life’s crumpled
.
pages. Your transparency
builds a story line,
romantic innuendoes
of historical significance
.
which weave complexities,
nuances of tone and metaphor,
smudges of graphite
on lines yet un-penned.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 