The Pale Girl's Walk
The whitewashed sands are blowing across the meadow
The hill upon which she stands
Her legs spread apart
Feet turned out.
Her head wrangles side to side, like blades within her toes
That sprinkling from ground
Do grow up and up
The anchor.
Her face is white and whiter still, all the blood be gone
The sign of the aorta pumps bleat
Ventricles slam shut
Jolt of silence.
The whitewashed sands are blowing across the meadow
The hills upon which she stands
The body that leaps out.
Her limbs roll down.
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