fall from grace

It starts with a trip, a misstep, a twist of the knee, the wrong lean, the wrong righting, righteous instead of right up and then she is done, face falling and flat lining, pavement coming up towards her, the roar of the bus, the bawl of brakes, the oil burn smell of acrid nearly, pot-holed tarmac dancing meaning, falling flailing until all about her isn’t grey concrete diesel grubby chip fat but violent turquoise, French lemon, olive tart, she is falling, fumbling, floating, tender rose coral on the turn of the tide, underwater psalms of sirens blessing mermen, bottle-nosed dolphins bundling and nuzzling, still she glides her arms outstretched her legs in freefall her caramel trenchcoat undone about face, rushing air spool sweet in her lungs, weightless about her girth her belly gone until suddenly, no not suddenly, a dandelion soft landing lips down, Venus sea fans about her cheeks, everything violet camber green she lands, is landing, from her fall from grace.