from slippery crevices inside her mind
that she landed herself onto which
was drowning her sorrows upon.
ted from the one place she had hoped
would keep her self-doubts softly safe
while her ego, silently, lived on.
When dealing with, healing and keeping
all secrecy-like, she wants to wake
And dreading the mysteries, histories
of which chances she had to take.
Tamura – she says – chain me to life
not death, as one is wont to wish.
Creeping upon, the stealth lives on
and leaves fairy godmother’s goodnight kiss.