she had a sedentary style
a beguiling smile
and no one quite knew
the color of her shoes.

her hair was long
falling between her arms
lightly rising
in the breeze,

the layers dark
twisted and stark
like curtains
given to the wind.

she walked fast
but slow,
sure but no,
at each corner
she was forever lost.

she must be kind,
summer for
for winter minds,
i wonder what she
wonders while
she waits.

she won't...
seize the day
or follow signs,
what she wants
is not yours or mine.

it's in her clothes,
it's in her stare,
her words,
her own sense of everything.

but ther she goes,
where who knows,
across the street,
down and past
vanishing memories.

the circle
stretches in
unbending lines,
as magnetic north
pulls
in strange designs.


 
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