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SUNDRA
Star Child
Bitter fruit
hollowed through
saddened faces in the rain
she reaches to an empty space
chiselled in her darkest pain.
Hollow, dry and terse
she tiptoes and
touches her dreams
with the tips of her fingers.
Lines
beautiful lines
swirling in the palms of her hands -
lifting the lids of her deep pocket dreams
crushing insecurities
she's flying,
flying with her thoughts and her plans
time can't catch her
no one can
running raw
screaming banshee
through heart
through soul
banshee trippin
when she rippin
chomping the moon
and nibbling the stars,
light shoots through her eyes like heaven's holy rays
she is truly a Star Child.
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