Christine Ramirez UNTITLED Reflections of days blown into weeks years picked up scattered like so many coins from an old woman's purse. this time things will not be the same. There is no power in your words no magic or illusion the poison no longer venomous, there is only you a magician without his wand and a trick the audience has already seen. UNTITLED Yesterday Leaves falling from your face Alive Alone Tiny gusts of wind Blowing you into nowhere Scattering pieces of nothing All over your hair I look at you and exhale