She smiles at me,
her face a mosaic like shiny glass.
I turn away and the glass shatters into thousands of little pieces,
lying on the floor.
“We’re so happy you’re here,” she says.
My eyes slide sideways to her face.
How often has she said this?
“You are the bomb,” she tells me smiling.
The smile doesn’t penetrate those bulging blue eyes and green metallic eyeliner.
“We’re here to help,” she says admiring the polish on her nails.
“It’s all about helping them be the best they can be.”
The eyes glitter over the cat-like smile as she adjusts her designer jacket.
“You know you can always ask me for help,” he adjusts his green and brown bow tie,
over the matching green dress shirt.
He musters a smile, faintly.
The brittle bones are so fragile and easily broken,
Not easily mended.
The milk of human kindness doesn’t flow here much.
Ah, me. To think on how things used to be, and
might never be, again.
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