Amye Barrese

Gypsy Lady



My gypsy lady looks down at me
Wrapping me tightly
in the hanging mysteries around her neck.
Spinning her web of dead husbands
And buried babies..
Reading my palm like the Sunday paper...
Spilling my dirty destiny
At my naked feet..
(This one means three children..
This one is a failed marriage…)
My gypsy lady wears a stoic smile,
And carries my heart in her purse,
Next to her crystal ball.



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