One hand covers the eye—
Its wrinkled knuckles painted stark white
Visible ancient eye rimmed by soot
From a forgotten fire
Scar, leaking from the corner where tears would come
If she could cry
The lighting cascade shape of it reaches to the temple
Maybe worship there, by the cortex
Low light flowing
Brown eye simmering in it
Just the corners of her mouth tremble
Slightly open lips hungrily breathe pockets
of dark air
Drowning in starless skies
Pantomiming spotlights blaze down
from heaven
Shine her into tetraplegia
So she stands there
calcified, alone