She walks by night

By daylight and Twilight

Step silent across gravel roads cobble streets

The girl in the flannel skirt

She doesn't eat or drink or sleep

She simply breathes

And lets whatever is in the rain hold and feed her

She is the sweet smell after the storm that fills her lungs

So deeply in love is she that her heart is numb

In and out and in and out

She breathes in whispers

Keeping the secrets of stars in a box by her bedside

And rainwater in pots meant for plants

With holes in the bottoms

So they drain across her windowsill

Call it a baptism

Blessed and refreshed in the name of no God

Whispering prayers to the Sun who sends her flowers

Because He is jealous of the light in her eyes

And only wishes that He could shine so bright

A baby's laugh in the flash of her smile

The current of the River in her tears as she

Sobs away the taste of rum on her tongue

Cold and wild the blizzard behind her eyes rages

The fog that creeps into her mind just before

Her spirit begins to daydream

Pages of a library

The parts becoming all we know of the whole

The glass beneath her fingernails slicing light into hurricane

No joy, no sadness, no pain, no healing

Just breath

She is the flame atop the candle

Tragically beautiful and blissfully confused

Flickering in and out and in and out

She is the gasping of the smoke when the light is snuffed

Refusing stay out, escaping to parts unknown

Strong and resilient and gentle and kind

The rose and the thorns

The Girl in the Flannel Skirt