There are peacock feathers smashed together in her mind.

She hasn't spoken in 3 months.

Every time she tries another radical vibrant feather interrupts her speech.

They tingle her cheeks, sneak out  bus windows to invade Damage City on her way to anywhere.

Sometimes in the cloak of black exhaust she untangles riddles of gentleness.

If there are words to speak she sings them in another world where law of wonder ignites it all.

  When she closes her eyes  mountain wind rockets them up.

  Billions of soft,
     defined dancers
   tickling coarse shells.

Let it carry electric love to everyone smashed apart burning lonely in some torn down gutter.

There are wings on fire
inside her eyes.

The ghost of everything stirs away.

  Paradox blew away the cardboard box cynics angrily threw her in.

Now nobody can fathom new colors except the wonderful dreamers.

If her mouth could bleed what silence teaches-

Who knows how Love would sound?