The Perfect Plot

 

She rests beneath cool sheets, her body warm

to the touch – skin deep only anymore.

Her heart of stone, cold and hard, is alone;

tired of sappy poetry and prose

she pens passion in her sleepless dream-state.

Neither heroine nor trivial chit

part of her exists in each character

assassination – her seen in his eyes.

 

She cannot escape this chapter or verse

rendering of her life, until the end

is written and she finds the truth inside

her own mind. Complicated twists and turns

keep her desire for the perfect plot

alive within her – she searches for life.

 

Siobhan

12/2/08

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