She never dreamed
of fleeting moments
in a bubble of threads
of fate—
of reason
for one person
she'll never
meet again—
not ever.

But it is there
a star-studded moment:
reality is gripped
by shackles
of faith
Freedom?
Delusion.

Yet it is here
that she—
gleams with pride
for herself
that she too, a
constellation of self
revered.

And this is where
with eyes closed
a candle is blown
in the wind
for maybe, in a future
her mug is not cold
not empty
and she might
dream again—

with reason.