She doesn’t know that your
door eludes the prying grasp,
bound shut from the inside.
You save face above all else, so
in balance, she must grow mottled with
splintered bones and
splintered nails.
But you’ll grant a momentary respite,
open the window, kiss the bruises
and to the doorstep she returns!
A relentless sentinel, her efforts
thwarted by that enigmatic lock.
She tries her very hardest –
so you bestow a frail rope to cling to:
you’ll graciously drink from her cup, and
she will gladly go thirsty for you.
In this twisted dance of give and take, and
thank and thank and thank
You will save your neck, while she breaks hers…
And she will sound on your door
with gratitude for your condolences
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