Reviles gnaw on her somber thoughts
as she hangs between beige curtains
tightly thick around her neck
absorbing lachrymal crystals under her eyes
Her many faces retreat—implode under
pressure—like glass borne on a cliff
As for her, herself, come forth many
holding stones—boulders to her—
ready to strike this candle;
intimidated by fire, she melts
And as the flames are roused
watch her re-harden: an exquisite tragedy