For Her Who Feels Too Much

and Never Enough

There you are again—
folded between the hours,
not quite morning, not quite night,
hair undone, mood undone,
wondering if the world ever really saw you.

It did.
I do.

I see the way you vanish just before you break.
The way your eyes still dare to glow
even when your lips forget how to ask for softness.
And when you curse your body—
for bleeding, for aching, for ne…