“Coward, Coward,” She Utters

Under a clear sky and a bright moon,
In front of the Agave Azul with a friend,
Guacamole with chips and a tipple was the intent.
A conversation about life soon turns bleak.
“Coward, coward,” she utters about herself.
Irrigating eyes with every sentence,
Recalling years of agony as a child and young woman,
Life encounters with brutes seem endless.
An existence on this earth she does not find blissful.
Self-culpability of past exploits dominates her being.
Her narration of “coward, coward” about herself reveals a
cry for help.
Self-loathing she displays.
In front of the Agave Azul, two people are able to connect.
Looking into her eyes, you can see a lack of internal
Edification of internal audacity she was never taught.
“But, it’s there inside you,” I utter, an effort to convince her
of her strength.
The past has enchained her feet and hands, she is unable to
live for today.
Her eyes with their obscurity can’t see any light.
Because her preceding exploits she feels are laden on her
Minutes of convincing her, she needs to tap into her natural
abilities to release unwanted feelings.
Night’s coming to a conclusion, the slight relief in her eyes I
hope will last.

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