Ruby Slippers

 

H0w crookedly
these ruby slippers
walk and amble
swiveled,
on their way back home.
You stood there
strung out, lathered,
on a box, and sang to me
while spinning ’round
the globe. As fingers
feel for something
in the dark, familiarity
Is often clothed
within the braille
of stunning, naked scars,
that map and twist,
then flatten out,
suppose.
While skipping
stones across a white
capped pond,
I looked again
and all the swells
were swans.

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