Wordle #116

Week 116

A string of staccato vowels,
a coterie of fireworks, a protean waltz
churning beneath my left breast pocket
like so many precipitous waves.
I wilt under observation,
there are too many eyes
in this room and I cannot
answer them without forgetting myself.

I am a dummy, a trampled wallflower
peeling my spine-prim as a starched collar-
from the shell of a walnut.
I would do anything
to avoid the strop, the proboscis,
the razor-tongued princesses
deadening in their conceit.

I am a well no deeper than a thimble
what I lack cannot be embellished,
what I possess is scarcely worth mimicry.
The stars lie down for me,
they beget me, how can I go on
wasting chance after chance
in the preservation of illusion?

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11 responses to “Wordle #116

  1. Pingback: Wordle #116 – “July 4th, 2016” – Daisy Chain | Morpethroad·

  2. Too often we are too hard on ourselves. Your last stanza – I too am reminded how I dislike crowds and feel so very inferior often. But one needs to look at the positives and allow even the smallest flicker to become a blossoming light of encouragement so we can recognize our value. Because we are valuable!

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