W

Where does she find the courage to undress? 

Her needful things, wrapped in cloth,

threaded in a tight weave around her skin.

They know nothing of her underneaths, 

darkened by the blood of heartbreaks 

from a world so asleep.

To her, 

this is hallowed territory, 

Forever seduced by the heated caress of her sigh. 

The pelagic pulse of dark waters beneath her 

cracked porcelain skin,

bare more than any palm could purchase. 

She is dainty, yet wise and weighted 

in her steps,

bound tightly in well-treaded shoes.

She is timid but fierce; 

counsels flame beneath her vestments.

At nightfall, she transmutes the alchemist;

untangles from the persona 

of 

a poised beast,

and liquifies from smoke. 

There she baths, 

naked

in her knowing;

she laughs at the moon.