Elusive is the captive wings;
Breaking upon broken glass.
The baskets are woven from corn shucks.
The moths are following her destinations;
Leaving fluttering trails within every room...
She seemed distant within her solemnity.
Waking throughout the hours upon sable moons;
Listening to the prowlers of thoughts;
Their voices disrupting her dreams...
Not everyone can hear them;
and they know that she can…