She paints and colors daydreams
A myriad of images both crystal clear and snarled
Her audience plays hopscotch next to her unicorns
Mornings she studies in quiet libraries, Serious as a heart attack
Afternoons, she is playful
photographing bus stops:
flocks of thick coated women
huddled together against the wind
On warm nights she stands on the L station
Swaying with the wooden platform as trains come and go
Toasting marshmallows on waves of yellow sparks
Her hands are in constant motion
caressing the world around her
so many rings on her fingers, none attached to anyone