By Diana
You don’t even notice it at first.
But, it’s always pulling, pulling.
You think, I can always turn back.
It’s always pulling.
The ground slopes down, down towards the abyss.
It’s always pulling.
You see it, you try to fight it.
But, it’s always pulling
Pulling you down towards it, you fight it, grabbing at anything.
It’s always pulling, pulling.
You slide towards it, faster and faster.
Pulling.
Just one more time. I know I can stop.
But, it’s pulling.
You reach out.
And pick up the dress.
Lovely and whimsically serious.
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