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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=496552" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Turning Point</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=496552" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">she was taught nothing but straight lines<br>and her life has always been like the way she was taught<br>a straight one</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=496552" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">no curves, no angles, no secants, <br>nothing to decant, nothing foamy, everything is settled<br>like some mathematical principles<br>solid, stoical, hard, sturdy, <br>devoted to nothing but study<br>laughter is strange<br>the frown is welcome, and <br>like a stuffed toy did she become<br>in one of those cabinets<br>she bathes in the antiquity of her silence</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=496552" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">until she exploded, she was shattered into<br>concentric pieces, tangent minuscules<br>her mouth foamy, her eyes all too hazy<br>her neck strangled, and we took turns<br>looking at her scattered limbs.<br>on this turning point of her life, <br>the straight line travels dissolving as air<br>in a distance.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a></strong></div>

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