She stands in the white hush of a room with no walls,
skin bleached to the color of moonlight on bone,
a porcelain silence where hair once grew.
No shadow dares to touch her.
The air itself has been rinsed clean of pigment,
leaving only the slow pulse beneath the jaw
and the single, impossible wound of her mouth:
red, red, red,
a slashed pomegranate seed
pressed against the snow of her face.
She looks straight through the lens
as though the camera were a mirror
she has already forgiven.
There is no plea in her eyes,
only the calm of someone who has walked out of her own story
and left the ending behind.
The collar of her shirt is crisp,
a white flag folded into geometry,
and the thin chain at her throat
is a horizon line
between what was mortal
and what has become emblem.
She is the moment after the scream,
the breath held so long it turned to marble.
She is the question no one asks aloud:
What remains when everything that could burn
has already burned away?
Only this:
a gaze that does not blink,
a mouth that refuses to close,
and the color red
remembering itself
in a world that forgot how to bleed.
skin bleached to the color of moonlight on bone,
a porcelain silence where hair once grew.
No shadow dares to touch her.
The air itself has been rinsed clean of pigment,
leaving only the slow pulse beneath the jaw
and the single, impossible wound of her mouth:
red, red, red,
a slashed pomegranate seed
pressed against the snow of her face.
She looks straight through the lens
as though the camera were a mirror
she has already forgiven.
There is no plea in her eyes,
only the calm of someone who has walked out of her own story
and left the ending behind.
The collar of her shirt is crisp,
a white flag folded into geometry,
and the thin chain at her throat
is a horizon line
between what was mortal
and what has become emblem.
She is the moment after the scream,
the breath held so long it turned to marble.
She is the question no one asks aloud:
What remains when everything that could burn
has already burned away?
Only this:
a gaze that does not blink,
a mouth that refuses to close,
and the color red
remembering itself
in a world that forgot how to bleed.
