i like the way she is the world of herself.

how she walks with grace, feline,

takes a seat,

folds herself up like a map.

hands inside sleeves of her senior high sweater,

fingernails peeping out, burnished pinku

as the inside of a cockle shell, toes

turned inwards in that Japanese kawaii way.

hands hidden on bare knees

she is tucked into herself,

in two minutes asleep,

sitting at attention.

in this seething human mass

already complete

within her own

universe.