Like a bird in the cage
of a unceasing movie of fly.
Like a strawberry
that never flowered
in the mouth of a thirst.
Like a grape
that never jingled
on the winding longs
of an unfolding vine.
Like the train of an instant
behind the eyelid of a perpetual pilgrim.
Like a morning dew
upon an unopened eyelash
of a never pausing eye of a soldier.
Like the virgin soul
of a ..hore.
Like Fantine in Les Misérables
