The collar bones of a dented prow,
Flattened and swallowed by flesh,
Strain to break free of clinging skin.
But don’t come near; don’t be fooled by
The twisted smile of an anchored dimple.
The shards of her broken, marooned love
Could pierce your soul in a heartbeat.
A siren in mourning can still maim,
The softness of her defeat is unyielding.
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