Genevieve

by Lisa Clarkson

I drift about the world
In my cloak of silver satin
My fingers are delicate and long
My mind is sharp and strong
I am unique
Yet I sing the universal song
I like to stand, stitchless,
In the open doorway between worlds
The cold wind bites my naked skin
I shudder, yet I yearn

I am surrounded but alone
I pull with my claws
But push with my soul
And no one seeks to learn
Of the jewel I hold inside
Or of the way my spirit burns

I don’t want my light to die.