with pagan indifference.
Holding her book firmly before her,
she has drifted away to some desolate territory.
She sees nothing, hears nothing,
she is distant from everyone in an alternate universe.
mind tempestuous as the sea,
she has crafted a dim idea of herself,
strung together by misty memories.
Look how she massages the nape of her neck,
how she runs her fingers through greying hair,
how a faint smile plays on her fuchsia lips,
her magic is bewitching,
for such gestures one falls hopelessly in love for a lifetime.