Release

She was born in the radiation era, 
A veil of marble covers her eyes,

Her lids webbed in waves: 

They were stitched too tight

to permit the penetration 

of the perpetrator.

Permutations-to which is the perfect order?

shifting 

And sifting through. 

Through what exactly? 

She only feels the heat on her skin, 

Something, a feeling akin to suspense,

A strange twirling within,

or an Uncurling desire to begin, 

Begin new. 

“Show me life” she dreams.

Let the clouds clear and let the storm rear

its ugly head. 

Let the fires cool, and a breeze blow 

through hell. Shifting and sifting

Through fire. 

“Show me room to breathe” she pleads.