she is like the amber eye of Mars
or the force that drives the waves;
she watches and sees,
listens and learns,
and she hides away, unknown
from the world.
in her palm is the heat of the Sahara
and she wields it like a dagger--
seeking her opponent stealthily.
she is a panther of the mountains.
yes, her heart is cold;
it froze long ago with the tundras
of the north, but it still beats
and she can hear in it
the thunder of Amazon rainstorms.
her skin is full of stars
and she wears them like a cloak,
gathering the fabric close to her,
letting it go only in the daylight
when the stars fade away,
so she can blend into the crowd like a chameleon.
she only loves the world--
and the world only loves her--
for it is bitter and broken
and so is she.