Summary of a She Poet

She has fingers
Ankles
Everything in between.

She cries everyday.
Perpetually,
For no reason at all.

Made of 92 pounds of metal spine,
With a pen resting in her fingers at all hours
As the rose petals plant themselves beneath the skin of her face,
Seeking solace when it is cold.

She knows no one will ever be able to understand her phrase
Or why her eyes are always closed as she mouths some unimaginable comparison.
Because she is like a bird getting closer to the fire, ready to be devoured by the world.