Kriss

She's always gazing from the shadows, 
configuring with geometric solids, 
with alchemistic fumes, 
the dirt and soul.
Her dresses, covering her values, 
stamped like phalerae and cameos, 
protecting not only her skin 
but most likely wounds, from past and future, 
from bad and good.
And all the violence she captures,
right there, next to her ear, 
she keeps a promise of listening in peace.
To Kriss, and cats, and constellations.

See in portfolio.