Twenty in Alencon sharp edged bright white lace
Standing air in claustrophobic alcove
Father primping flop sweat off his black brow
Fan stilled above floats an omen shouting
Silent screams of impending disaster
In Alencon bright white lace jabbing skin
Pricking memory of broken teacups thrown
There in the eyes in the gilt edged mirror
Faded blue to yellow under long sleeves
In the heated hallway marches forward
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