her skin of diamondsglitters in the light.eyes of burning sunpierce the night.she lives on the
shorewhere the shells wash up.
cracked, they sometimes cut her up.the palm tree moveswith the beat of the wind,and with her
bodyas she gets high.high,
the highest.higher than the skywhere our dreams persist.bodies of mist, and sleet, and rainblock
the sun rays,but she floats high with the stars unafraid,
far past her memories
of taking savage beauties,
and mending broken bodies.boundaries of truthdrift in the air,shielding her secrets,
kissing her hair.she stays highnot wanting to come down,in resentment of the love
that she never found.
because no one was ever home,
no one was on the phone;
the only magic she ever felt
was the haunting of alone.
when she is back in this world,you won’t find her in the blue of the oceanor the green of the
leaves.but a California queenwith her un-tamed heart,
re-scarred, unscarred, powerful.