Monday, April 11, 2016

makeshift metaphors

A bubbling breath of friendliness slowly soured in her mouth, and fell tinny on the ears. Frequencies, more so than languages, did not properly align. The guiless cannot speak to those who need kind lies.

Her honesty had no place in a world of “How are you?” without a following pause. 

She was like a horse in heavy traffic: functional but not ideal, unfortunate for all involved.

She did not fit, and I can only speak of her in clumsy simile. What then does this leave us?

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