A Buddha could not seem
so serene on the outside
her deep gaze
her slanted mouth
her long legs and fingers
perched at her desk
near the window
contemplating a
reality
none other can
envision
but her
a surface so calm
so surreal
who could guess
about the turmoil beneath
the dark shapes stirring
in the dark waters of
her soul
prodding her up
out of sleep each morning
haunting her with
dreadful thoughts
she can't wash away
with a wave of the
hand
a Buddha and yet not
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