Inner Parade

she closes her eyes and a dream
words, wet paint, graffito
her own parade permeates
the inner walls, silent singing

in there her gaze, ablaze
unabated seeking, her feet
are distinct and an array
of encrypted lines splattered,

speaking — a strangely familiar
terrain — unmapped feelings
and the mind tries to articulate
how to spell the name

the fuel, the flames and the ember

the improvised throne, heart
a target, aquamarine here
where she placed it
‘it awaits the parade that awaits you

follow through to the edge of the night' ...

There is day, her awakening.