The Woman on the Floor

That little tiny flaw within my heart
The one that’s held me over since the start
The thought of life within the wandering mind
The deadly, and the locking, and the bind

The whistle leaving you in little spins
The water heaving rain into the winds
The live the life the love and then the death
The hearing of the greatness of the breath

The falling of the mind after the soul
The chocolates just sitting in the bowl
The breathing and the wanting and the loss
The star, the book, the flower, and the cross

Beginning all the falling of before
Watching for a knocking at the door
Though no one’s home she knocks until she cries
The woman on the floor, she merely sighs