But I am a map folded and filed away,
torn and ripped
along the main tributaries and you are the reader,
your fingers knowing exactly where to point,
which direction to go.
If only I could open up to that spot long enough
for your navigation,
long enough for you to pinpoint my whereabouts
for that moment.
Please forgive me, for I have my own axis,
my own line of rotation;
my symmetry and pivot not smooth-
my journey not certain....
My story plot unplanned.
-- Personality Harlot
|About the author:|
Kathleen D. Gallagher is a writing instructor by day and writer and collage artist by night. She patches together words for her writings and publications like she creates assemblages: by collecting found objects from the rumblings of human nature and the spoken word, and/or the occasional side walk flotsam and jetsam that crosses her path.
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