By Julia Luber
For some time between, they live in flux.
Few words, strange gazes, actions either unseen
or far too rough…….
They cast upon each other reflections of themselves.
Their inner strength switched to the haunt:
Strange jealousy, unspoken, of an animal’s rarest pelt.
Whose identities to whom were lived in action and not fear?
The women once bedecked such not knowing who.
The stranger ones sometimes were friends, assimilating what the others do.
Some were not so suited to life; living as plain border to die.
The Obvious with their looks amongst each other: Pure and plain sacrifice
of asking, and soon, just wondering: WHY.
And soon enough collective transport lets them be.
Not so alone, all one, so in new form of harmony.
And there they sit as asset as there they are.
Each twinned directive of the same some numbered star.