The Tattered Laugh is Falling

The feathered monster stretches its wings, creaking as they grow.

The wisps of smoke overtake the mirror.

A woman begrudgingly smiles, forcing happiness to show.

The shriveled leaf lifts to its new beginning.

Weeping pots, drip and drop, the steam screams its mourning.

It shatters with the covering, no longer holding power.

Rivers flow with new found urgency, awakening.

Fog rolls off its surface cool, the residues remain.

The tattered laugh is falling.

 

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