Excuse me, – told Cecilia
seeking for something under the bed. –
It is so dusty, it’s impossible to see.
Is this the pincussion of my ready-maid heart
I was hunting for for time being
or is this his sickening hatred?
Since both my Grannies died
I stopped playing Red Hiding Hood.
After all, it’s my hairpins I’m after,
not my happiness,
not his.
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