Mistaking Tornadoes for Tomatoes
Exchange languished sighs for
fumbling hands, pale as doves
just released from the dovecote,
feathers of silk.
She’s so young, tread carefully.
No longer do we enforce the wear
of red A’s on maidenly breasts,
but eyes can still wound
just as much as verbal accusations.
So she falls prey to the sharks,
naive but not quite innocent,
eyes wide and mind empty.
You had such promise,
but it all breaks into shards
within your hands.
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