… like this. She was a sad soul, but a good friend. I learned a lot. Maybe not enough, but quite a bit.

she smiles
she smiles sometimes.
her face breaks;
cheeks pucker, lips part.
she smiles —
crow’s feet clench.
she smiles, a gash,
a tight pink scar.
It cracks, bleeds,
and, at the pain,
she smiles she’ll never
smile again.

J. Thorp
09 Nov 2001