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by Maria Massarella

Oh! Why would you flutter wings

dance and sing!?

Look at yourself. 

You are 


of the woman 


used to be !

- or so he quipped -

She knew. Truth is what it is.

Pause. Inhale. Swallows 

words as she would pills. Traces

scars knowing they won't bleed.

Oh! his taglient words

finger her wounds

just when she sensed

the stir of healing

snaking her withins - joy

blossom dancing vibrations

enlightened awakenings.

Silent, gratitudefilled she

venerated the adored kiss 

Life's breath had breezed 

to her fingertips.

Held it close.



its wonder 

to her lips 


the timelessness

of Now.

Maria Massarella, a three-year cancer survivor, writes from her home in Modena, Italy. She was born in a seaside town between Rome and Naples "where the legend of Ulysses still reigns and one can almost hear the Siren's lure." Maria says, "I began to write to keep alive the English language in me." More of Maria's work can be found at www.pathetic.org, an interactive poetry community.