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A Bouts-rimes |
| Old Maid (A Bouts-rimes) She is the essence of gentility, although her skin looks petrified. She still carries herself like nobility, though her dreams have been crucified. She's as thin as the proverbial toothpick. Her life is a decoupage of mementos like the walking stick from Istanbul or the camouflage shirt from Desert Storm. Each event, a championship; each broken heart, a profanity in the endless search for companionship that she approaches with such fatality. Before an altar strewn with idols, she chants an incantation as much a prayer as a condemnation. |