There's a girl I know
who steps forward in time
through a broken line of sight.
And there are picket signs
from old timers that kick up
the gravel in her voice.

And she
Swallows words
to her stomach that hollers still
unaware of her skill of
ripping up dollar bills
and shedding packs of pills
that reverse the freedom of choice.

Her shoes pass through the door frame
Those outside couldn't fill
but with morning sickness and shame
lucky for their time
Too busy picking off the pedals
of the good life.

As she exits
The sun still squints in a gleam
The Earth's turn is still permanent.
Commit to understanding
or commit to ignorance
there is no in between.