She had been a quiet girl,
wrapping herself in a guise of diamonds,
playing childhood games of mystery
chasing secrets from her pillowed-nooks,
looking for shadows in light only to find them
hidden in darkness.
Today as the troops gather; their laughter shines.
I sense excitement and enthusiasm.
She reads the speech aloud,
they listen with intent
to engrave it in their memories.
Such passionate creatures
betrayed by torrid dreams of:
martyrs and seers.
Tonight she spends time unnoticed
among ordinary furniture
and her mother’s faded curtains,
while a melancholy cat
lies upon the floor.
She writes the words to verses in my wrists,
I’m soundless, a stranger,
when the roof begins to turn
with a rusted iron hiss.