She peers through lenses to see the world,
she sees it through fire.
She believes in solutions and concentrations,
an owl amongst pigeons.
But she is kind.
She doesn’t believe in much,
only what she sees through the smoke.
Her vision is hazy, but she is keen.
She puts her faith in the smeared glass in front of her,
a broken pocket watch without a chain.
She renounced god a long time ago,
breathing through her nose and eating the fire that licked her face.
They collided once,
the flames and the monocle.
They destroyed each other.