
she found that, as though broken
about everything beautiful, nothing mattered
as she looked, over the bridge
her young body, quivered
as she thought about attempting the leap
or showing him the door
wanting freedom, or imaginary rights
it was sad beyond belief
good, not ever had she imagined
regions of death, would
be found to break her
(for mara’s poetry 101 rehab – found)
*the words in italics are the last three words of the first ten of the longer stories included in the random house / vintage collection of the complete short stories by kafka*






