the last moment of her apparatus
collects points at her lip
freshest makeup applied, plys
the evening air
warm paws from beasts bloodiest
chill, and
her eyes canned champagne-
the rolled
isotopes of stars
wrinkling time, she holds
the hand of eternity still at the
side of her heart
hard as sheet rock, coiled creek beds and Triceratops fossils glazed
in museum cases
empty the rest of history
as her cells beat the wing of blue
sea change: foam
the color of everything
pulsed until death.
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