her jaw, peeling paint
gathers the old,
taking away long light eyes,
which hurt her constricted soul.
The apples are listening and hissing,
on a platter in their own celebration,
every line cracks the tile
and every sound catches
Yet, this woman looks
in a mirror, surrounded by the image
that includes an interior painting,
though, she believes
in long endings, watch how they husk
the shells of her divination.