The Next in Line

 

She waited for the perfect age,

When all the edges fell away,

And language came to mean much more

Than angry taunts and lines in sand.

 

She waited for the smile to grow

Into a subtle arch of peace,

Until the skin had formed and filled,

Until the dresses calmed and flowed.

 

She waited, as she always did,

And when she moved it made such sense:

Her daughter would begin to learn

The secret silences she’d borne.

 

And so began her long decline,

And so began her future’s rise.

 

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6 Comments to “The Next in Line”

  1. Love it – the cadence the repetitions and the sadness

  2. The last two lines… superb!

  3. such emotional intelligence written within these lines, sublime poetry, ty.

  4. I like that “lines in sand”, i.e., the line drawn in the sand…

    Hmm. Could be a double-meaning with the title, “The Next in Line”…

    or… I have it totally wrong! 😀

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