Smile–not right. A little
to the left? Deeper on the right.
And they cast shadows on her face
where there had been none.
That dent again, tiny, insignificant,
Another shadow, another wrinkle,
Another blemish where she could
Afford for there to be none.
Easy enough, for most.
Slight tightening of the muscle.
But not right, no, not hers.
A little to the left and deeper on the right.
And there, again, a shadow.
Where there was supposed to be none.
And so it goes, and on it goes,
A broken merry-go-round no one boards.