Maia

You do not need to see my skin
or feel my insides
to get a glimpse of my soul
it contorts beyond this thin net of crystallites

contracting constantly,
then broad in other realms

You might not need to hear me speak
or watch me live
to taste the waters in which I’ve been sunk

combat constantly
not with veiled mirrors but eyes wide shut

Cassiopeia. And the male flower.
No throne, I will neither drown and blossom.

I am, I am, I am.

The shattered pieces of a humble yearning
fierce
never ending.

I am understanding beauty as the manifold of the unspoken.