the light shines through her
like she is a stained glass window
at sunrise,
a cobweb of woven glass etched into panes of steel
soft
and hard
like dust.

the day is dawning.
her smile is breaking,
the joy of the sun cresting like waves

waves pouring in
in and in and in
from her seablue eyes

into a dark deep cave
at the heart of things
(at the heart of her)

the water is still there,
calm and cool and clean.

you can find It there,

translucing her skin,

lighting her from inside
a pair of tiny suns circling
always circling circling always,
always circling, circling always...

you can see them, sometimes,
if you catch her glance
at the right moment

a single instant of light caught—

held taut in her breath, in her
eyelashes sparkling with sun, in the
rays beaming from her lips, her teeth,
her body that sends the whole world
spiralling


spinning—

but it is lost to you
as suddenly as it came,

blown away on the wind
that is hard
and soft
like dust.