Despite being blindsided by
The lack of gentleness of heart . . .
In how she delves into the follicle
Of the absurd; in how she is
Easy to laughter, and easy to tears,
Like a two-toned ball bouncing back
And forth—one part frolicking, while
The other is mourning—and how
She scrapes with a razor tongue too . . .
He knew . . . one part of her is struggling
With . . . bidding adieu.
