She walks through rain-washed streets, picking salty scattered stardust.
Her pockets brim with moons made of silk,
gathered at the thresholds of her survival instincts.
Her dreams, stitched with scars, glow in dim starlight.
Her tired shoes have kissed many dark alleys in life.
Yet, she is a petal drifting and emanating
soft, unbroken, quiet light
She shakes like a hallow in electric glow.
Her gaze is thunder as she breathes fire everyday.
Her poetry are unsent words to the distant beloved
who keeps staring at her half-formed desires
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