sarah

sarah

she is wistful
     voiceless
dark hair which the world wisps in waves
     determined in her silence
her hope is a quiet buried kind

     she looks out at the world
          through those thick frames of cloudy glass
     somehow a step further back from all of it

          slow anxiety released from the fine tips of her long fingers

she has sex
     but it is a distant one
          seeming to belong
          to another body

she is a fragment
          there sometimes
at other times the enabling interactions aren’t there

a quiet desperate
          toneddown sense of humour
          turning her full lips slightly up