From one, still point, there are infinite directions.
Ascent, descent. Right, left. Whatever
decision, whatever direction,
it could go either way.
"Do you trust me?" asked the mad man.
"No?" said the girl.
Let's sleep on it, and in the morning,
after church, but before the party,
we'll make the decision at last.
There was a sing-song quality
to the voice, and laying out the bits of paper,
the lace and beads and glue,
she knew that no matter what was next,
she would be fine.
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