Tracing the outlines of this edge,
I peruse the overlays of memories and
unfinished conversations over,
too many empty glasses-
numbness seeks response and yet,
the edge brings echos of safety,
carrying melancholy in a basket of
chronicles that pay tribute to the fallen
women that betrayed the path of freedom;
too soon and leaving many sisters
behind.
The edge beckons still,
mirroring dreams that picture the place where pain and ease
converse and
make love.
