She caught her reflection
like a firefly,
diagonal, forward on a street window.
The city made her feel
wide and alone.
"Skin"- the occasion for the torture
Capability of bondage, of compliments, of magic
His to believe I am enough:
a firefly hysteria upon a blemished city.
I used to dream
in the shadows of white horses
In thunder, in concrete
But your bouquet is a diminishing real.
Scrape me more, that I might know how to live.
In the name of a light.
In the name of holding a place.
