she was forged
by the songs of joanna newsom
she said:
"no one ever talks to me quite like her"
and i understand
and i see the beauty of her words
reflecting in her sea-glass eyes
she stands
in the city square of some polish town
she got here by train
she carries a bag like a woods witch
with literature for more intelligent folk than me
and she wears a smile
for more deserving folk than me