She

 

wears
eternity tattooed
on her wrists
to hide the fractalled
mysteries of vein
and luminous
fragility, tracts
of yesterdays
that slide
beneath
tomorrow’s surfaces
like subway tunnels.

She knows
secrets:

when to
dance, where
to run,
how to
fly but
she
won’t tell,
ever;
keeps her smile
wrapped up tight
in shadow and
in truth

she
looks best illumined
by rooftop neons,
mirrorless and
deepening;
her eyes
change color
in the sun
about to
set,
the heart
about
to jump.