There is a darkness
an ache
a lull
in the movement of my living

Arrested in flight
first my body halts
then my love departs
only to be followed by mourning

Gone into myself
coiled deep
in the shell of my life
I tend my wounds

no more

The shell has wound around
circles and spirals
surrounding me

Ready for the light
I am lost in the sphere
my protection
becomes my prison

How to pull the bandage
from the blow
and not redraw blood

How to start moving forward
when the end of the wheel
can’t be found

How to burst the shell
that rebuilt me

February 1, 2002
Tressa Lee Breen

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