Novella Transitoria

She shines like 
aurora Borealis, guest at
a gala of masks
and unconfirmed facts,
dancing to
soundtracks that
last only
as long as anonymity allows-

her faces are hidden but
she exposes her brow.

The rest of
the ballroom’s preoccupied
with the mundane
or the wine stains in
her dress would
go unnoticed.

She’s a
locust in
a snake pit,

on every
mental hit list in
a fifty foot radius.

And maybe it’s
all the Coke
and gin
but she wears
the widest grin
one ever
saw.

She won’t stand
here for
a long time, only until
she’s privy to a single sign-

a brilliant explosion
in the sky, or the
implosion of
a nearby street light-

her pilgrimage requires
her presence elsewhere.

As if
acting on
a dare, she leads one
hundred covered
eyes to
closure.

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