in infinity

she dwells in
infinity.

the world is
old, new –
wildly changing. she
makes no effort to
find one safe place.

instead, she roams:
goes wherever sounds
interesting at
present.

she doesn’t ever stay
long enough
to make a
history.
(prefers to cycle
through
people and apartments)

each year she’s
displaced,
discomforted –

-and every
time she is a
blank slate.
(no-one knows her
in her entirety,
after all)

and so it goes
that she calls
many places
her favourite.
there are no places
that call her
theirs;
there are no places
that she calls
hers.(so it goes)

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