Catherine has the body of a ghost:
Her diet’s wrong.
Her face is white -
She sows loss and confusion
As a temporary solution
To the imbalance she feels in her soul.
Poor girl.
Imagine, then, if Catherine knew
What the heck to do.
Slowly, over the years, she’d kick those fears,
Get a glow in her cheeks,
Think before she speaks,
Find a worthwhile goal.
Yep.
The delights of Qi
Flowing where it’s meant to be.
Easy.
(Relatively).
This poem is based on contact with a white-faced, vampirish woman who somehow sucks the vitality out of others and sows discord.
A changed diet and breathing exercises would probably make a profound difference.
