Bubbling under
She’s holding it down
Playing it safe
Where the devil is known
Mindful of her manner
Watching her mouth
Keeping her counsel
Holding on to her truth
As she sees it
But it’s vague and unclear
Contrary to much
And obscured by the fear
Of the looks on their faces
When she is direct
The avoidance, evasive
Why can’t she just let well alone
Must the boat be so rocked
She’s overly invested
So the shrieks must be locked
Away, swept away, tidied and ordered
The rampage of chaos must be simply sorted
Little by little
One piece at a time
She’s using the debris
To fashion a line
She can cling to
A something to say
That will not take the sheen off
The work songs of the day
She’s trying to slip in
But she’s all out of step
She can’t keep the rhythm
She can’t find her breath
She can’t pull off the outfits
They can see right through her
A distance is kept
She’s not wanted too near
In sight and in earshot
But not in the way
Her use is not suitable for everyday.


– Nonika Hendrickse Vagliviello

– Beth Eason (photography)

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