saved by obsidian eyes

my tender
places
are on the surface

the first to meet
this knife-edged
day

tripping me
I fall
howling
berating
spinning
woman-shards
everywhere
collapsing
crashing…

tiny
feathered
face
pops around window’s edge
obsidian eyes
shining with
curiosity
and
(I imagine)
joy

flashes away
in an explosion of
busy
purpose

surprise
laughter
bathes
tenderness
in compassion.

soothes
sheared edges

fits
woman-pieces
into form
again

© 2015 Tracie Nichols

2 thoughts on “saved by obsidian eyes

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