but only a little time threw
us to different worlds.
Her power lay not where it might strike you;
in her shining eyes, her lithe legs, her lack of hair,
or her jaw that cut the air ahead of her open
arms that dashed all before them as her figure moved like a blade.
Her power lay in her focus.
The same country, but mine allows.
us to different worlds.
Her power lay not where it might strike you;
in her shining eyes, her lithe legs, her lack of hair,
or her jaw that cut the air ahead of her open
arms that dashed all before them as her figure moved like a blade.
Her power lay in her focus.
The same country, but mine allows.
An accident of time gives me grace.
But, she had to dig her heels in, hold her ground,
a side-effect of living in her space.
I did not know her,
but her relief feels like mine.
Women's shapes reshape the place they stirred,
a perfect silhouette as in her life.
(RIP Sinéad O'Connor.)
I did not know her,
but her relief feels like mine.
Women's shapes reshape the place they stirred,
a perfect silhouette as in her life.
(RIP Sinéad O'Connor.)
