The  curtains trail in blues and greens
billowing as the breeze
floats in the open window
parting the filmy silk, reaching
cool fingers in, keen
to touch  the young girl's
thighs as she sits rocking
in her chair, gaze
locked on the land out there
unseeing  the summer day

colour in her head passionate
transfixed on purple, red and black
she  strokes her own skin absently
for  lack of any other touch

head  lolling gently side to side
she  wonders, is it time? she could
begin another one  of lilac, rust and green -
just then the Nurse comes in

starched  and white she is
thinking  of her lover and their
sweat  the other night as she
marches   down the room  familiar
with  the vacant stares at her uniform -
she  fixes-oil her
best  smile

the  girl's eyes glaze
at this expanse of white looming
too  blank, too bright, so she
gently strokes her own  skin and
begins  again: rose gold vermilion her
eyes  fold inward until she can't see
the  sun on the trees, can't
feel the breeze turn cold

Nurse  doesn't notice
the  girl's skin stipple
as  she tuts to herself receiving
no  response to her enquiry but her
voice  is bold and happy as she bends and
puts  her mouth to the girl's ear -
that's why  she's here - someone
has  to care - so purposeful she

but Clarissa's eyes are still turned in colouring
she doesn't hear because
she knows  she is of no
consequence  -
will never have a lover          o-  '-ir>
and no-one  misses her
the present absent sister Clarissa.
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