[Such Grace]

She walked through the Victorian door.
An intricate smile upon her velvet face.
A smile held as she opened the door.
Her fingers cold to the touch
With love.
She sends chills through your atria.
Have you taken away the only trust?
You’re the spirit within the glass.
You intrude her past,
Her present and
Her future.
You remind her
(It’s in her head)
Of the wrongs
(The easy mistakes)
Of the wrongfully rights
(Make up your mind)
Her fingers word "cold" across
Everything she touches.
She’s so cold.
Frozen.
She walked through the Victorian door,
Her face braced with a smile.
Braced by a lie.
Such grace she holds.

.Alyss.
5.17.08