I see her sometimes
at night
a girl in a silver dress
who runs gracefully
past my window
each barefoot step
is into a splash of moonlight
and droplets fall against her skirt.
I see her story on her cold breath
psalms of giddy youth and daring
she is not afraid to lean against sin
she is fragile and icy hot
a crackling paradox teeming with
sparks of Armageddon.
she is magnificent
she is worth more than flesh.
when I am about to fall asleep
my eyes flutter like spring curtains
on the warm days
when you can hear the breeze
and suddenly I am the girl
dancing through the night
like I am afraid but not really afraid
there is nothing chasing me
but when I turn my head back
there is only all-consuming darkness
which is terror enough, in and of itself.
