the mark of her beauty and beast, lareisa griner.

1. she reads and sits

and sits and reads

the words that train by fast-

are pinned to the memories tacked to her chest,

each with a face. most days it is

a rugged man who is really just

a boy with too much facial hair.

false maturity: alluring,

like the shallow waters that drown small children when they wander in,

naïve.

2. there’s a story being told.

one she keeps piecing together, switching back and forth

actual endings

with hopes.

hopes of rekindling and confident dispossession

(because she never really needed him anyway, that she knows

without a doubt.)

and still she weaves (eagerly;painfully slow) her account, until it sits well with her

-the one scrunched in long sleeves:

the mark of her concentrated work;

the mark of her beauty

and beast.

LAREISA G. }
writing in silences
the reincarnation of feelings