A sliding door, a looking glass,
One world and then another.
There was a hungry beast,
A savory feast, a life
Of little strife that lived
In shadows of flicker and flow.
Her soul would lay in agonistic angst
Aware that it is not what is said,
But what has not been said
And she would not get caught unless
She laid herself within its net.
Year:
2012
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