Another morning, girl wakes to the sun
sitting on one cheek.
Born again, her lashes dense with dreams.
Could she roll over
and delve into emptiness
for just a moment longer?
Girl rises nonetheless, girl folds herself into clothes.
How to live repeatedly, relentlessly
without knowing for sure what it is that girl is living for?
Is it just another day in which to smile?
To soak up knowledge? Or to
leap right over the edge of comfort
and say something she truly means?
No, she couldn’t possibly do something like that.
Do thoughtless humans lead better lives?
Outside, memories fall on girl like sycamore seeds.
Reality, girl knows, has only just begun
to stir up the world she never thought could be so overwhelming and
underwhelming
all at once.
Small reminders swallow girl whole-
that no one truly knows anything.
She’s wondering now, if she can actually feel
the shape of her soul becoming a
xenomorph (unusually and irregularly shaped).
Sun rays will wake girl once again,
zigzagging across her skin.
