I’m not that Isadora.
And it won’t happen to me.
As you should know by now.
Besides the world around me
Is far too ethereal ever to be a threat.
So little depth and breadth around me
as if with one gasp it would wisp and melt away.
It was a different car, yes I remember now. And a different scarf untangled and now freed.
Perhaps. Yes I am that Isadora. But  afterwards. Heavenwards. Where else could I go?

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