angle

those lips, (cuniform
at edge) reddened, (prosaic
melancholy) puckering, (symmetrical
enough) spending themselves
in himalayan uplift,
sunken,

tear framed.

and change begins with a grimace-
the smell of stale air
exhaling

she heads north in stead of south,
in ward in stead of out,
with subtle grace (oh
the most subtle) of
recovering clumsy,

inside out.

from one angle,
obscuring darkness,
another,
jumping shadow,
and another,

smiling shade.