Above The Cork & Bottle

Above the Cork & Bottle
In a warm, rustic flat
Sits a frail woman
With a clicking jaw and creaking bones,
The latter from age,
The former from cruel corrections.
A cozy flat where
Once upon a time,
A slender, frail woman curls her hair.
A wily cactus perches in the corner window.
Crooked and tall, it stands
Without water.
For months it lives.
For years, it stands healthy
& resilient.
But now summers come and go
Unnoticed in the empty flat.
The cactus died,
Shrinking from the sun
Many summers ago.
But maybe that little woman
Still sit eternally
In the warm rustic flat
Above the Cork & Bottle.

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