in parentheses

I see you woman, your age is bent into its own shadow, and your body has fallen back into your shadow, I see you woman, your time is petulant, and your eyes are silver-pale seeing nothing, I see you woman, grey twists and black knots of hair come falling to the ground as your hands wander through air, slovenly dragging behind goes your wedding dress still fitting, fore you were a comely pretty back then, and you didn’t know in your face there already cruelty hid that in your blood there already cruelty hid that for all the beauty and passion your passing gave the mural of faces there already cruelty hid

And woman speaks: despise this skin, hanging long, peeling off, barren, if it were given me the keys of time I would fall into my author’s time and gut’r before she had first thought to pen, despise this skin