Jul/11

11

Broken

So softly she stroked the sun as ripples of water washed white the weight of her weariness, her hands dripping tears. Suddenly slipping from the sky she turned back in time. Her sad sigh filled the dark night with worry, hovering like the bite of death. As dawn cracked light on her broken dreams, she sensed she was in a Shakespearean tragedy covered with the dust of time, dressed in rags and pointed French shoes, pondering a world without beauty.

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L.E. Mintz

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