She was sharp like a cracked knife, the seams overlapping and snapping each other.

She was jagged lines and articulate angles that didn't seem to understand their purpose, causing their anger to overflow into her muscles.

She was walking on thumbtacks, trying to avoid the mousetraps that surrounded her. She tiptoed on eggshells but they weren't white or brown but green and slender like Him. He had left them as His parting gift so she would never forget about the wars He started. How could she forget?

She was the staccato notes in sheet music, special markings accentuating their uniqueness but also their dejection, their separation. She missed blending into her wallpaper. She missed being able to hide in her closet under the extra quilts. She missed Him.

She missed him when the moon was whispering lullabies and the bed was too large for such a small body as herself and she couldn't help but wonder who's had he was holding or what night club he was visiting.

She was a double edged sword. She had all the treasured gifts she could ask for but had virtually nothing at the same time. How was it all possible? She asked herself this question when the pots were simmering and the children were screaming for more gumbo. She supposed this was what you received for such luck, bitterness.

She was splinted window panes a little chipped around the edges, hard to please and even harder to forget about. Her strength, her sharp tongue and daggered lips were what he found most endearing about her. She didn't need his strength {most of the time}. She didn't need his assistance {unless it was for a boost to reach the recipe box}. She didn't even need his love {so she told him} but he loved her all the same.

He was calmer than her first husband, a stable presence she could rely on even when she insisted she didn't need it. He was a gentle soul, an able bodied, hard-working man who made his living without assistance from others. He made the children special gifts and taught them the value of a hard day's work. Could that have been when she began to love him too?

She was sharp like a cracked knife. She was jagged lines and articulate angles. She was a double edged sword. She was his wife, the bird and he her husband, the fish and somehow they made a home off the coast of the Pacific Ocean.