Can you understand her?

She doesn't want to bet clothes
or four people around here.
i see the simplicity of her mind
and how akward she might be
as she thinks about the face
she can't touch and the eyes
she can't see.

once i thought she would lose
herself to the night as the stars
abandoned her eyes but
she is so instense
and needs the illusion
of something higher to go on
living like a poem written
on a toilet wall or the hope
of becoming a better person.
(sic)

she is a strange creature,
crawling here and there,
crushed by the things
she wants passionately
to live. but she knows not
what she is looking for.
i look at her, mesmerized
by her intelligence and stupidity
and her paradoxes are fuel
when nothing else can answer
morpheus or aphrodite.

she is dying slowly
and i can't even pray for her:
my religion doesn't permit me
such a kindness.
she is hanging between
two storms. i expect her
to tumble at any moment
but i feel if she falls,
it will be within herself:
a wonder still bubbles in her soul.

Karla Bardanza
http://karlabardanzapoems.blogspot.com
http://skycladatmidnight.tumblr.com
http://poeticpostcards.blogspot.com