after she fell

a crinkle
in the earth’s cheek
caught her –
windswept, limp,
and ribbon-stripped
from every
so many angles!
earth cried,
so many cracks!
and cricks!
so many irretrievable
ticks –
denuded girl
strewn about
like images
like smells
on the pavement
hills and hills and hills
obscure her
grubs of feet
and twelvefold fury
every mouth
has its music
but every girl
has her routes
her particular drifts
she longed to be fluidic
a sort of purée
to be daubed
all over the earth –
the kindly, crinkly skin.
But Mademoiselle, I implore you –
Do not soften. Stay with us.
It’s far
too soon
for you
to melt.
Stay solid.