Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Queen Sent The House Toppling Down

When I refused to live in a house of cards, the puppeteer got angry. I cut away my strings before he could pull and ran with crystal eyes chasing me.

And then I found a house he couldn't knock down with a gust of wind, and that's when he got creative.

Now the rustle of paper leaves keeps me up at night, and I can't walk to the market without echoes in my ear.

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