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The Cameo

Her neck carries down the page
Contrasting with the darker background of the cameo.
If it were up to me she would be facing the other way
But she remains rigid; too scared to make the transition. 

She will not face me now. 
I bow my head so as to replicate her smile but
It is her stony eye that draws me.
She has clearly sat for hours. 

Her laughter is gone.  The depth of her expression
Replaced with a monotone hue that blends to a mental blackness
Her determination to conform has
Set her in stone. 

I wear her around my neck; she is close to my heart
But easily ignored.  She weighs heavy on the clasp.
And we are bound and bound
Silver on silver bonded.

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Amy Tindale writes, “This is a poem about unrequieted love, rejection and the bitterness caused by loss.”