Tentatively, she steps, <br />Dark blue jeans made darker <br />by cold, chorine(d) water. <br /> <br />(What are the consequences? <br />No matter, for <br />Nothing matters now.) <br /> <br />She leaps, and like a fledgling <br />from its mother’s warm breast, <br />falls, <br /> <br />her loose white blouse billowing, suddenly, <br />like a cloud of forgotten dreams, <br /> <br />Or a parachute half-opened.<br /><br />Perfection Is Flawed<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/into-the-pool-fully-clothed/
