Tonight's Poet Corner: After She Moved Out

After She Moved Out
by Belinda Roddie

You wouldn't recognize her these days,
when she leaves dents on the streets. She's
taller now, and thinner, all the artificial divots
glowing from beneath her white, tattered
T-shirt. Scars are hard to hide. She smokes

two cigarettes at a time before she takes
the bus to nowhere, the only place where
she feels safe, her very short hair bristling,
such a stark contrast from the Beauty and
the Beast curls knotted up
behind her head. Most noticeable

is the change in her eyes, which you could catch
even when she was walking toward you from
two blocks away, as well as her smile. But
she doesn't smile anymore under the bruises,
and her eyes just aren't what they used to be.

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