a lost girl arranges in her room
her dress; with stillness,
she pushes her tongue
against small kitten teeth,
outside the lift groans and bangs,
lights burn shapes
of flats and stairs,
this is a place to circle in;
to return to,
never to leave;
she is sediment, a line of ash,
a failed escapee
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Shapes of life! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.