She Moves Through Light In The Evening

I

It always starts with light, falling
in this case through a car window
as streetlights pass.

It is soft at first, cinematic.
The yellow bleeds out to dissipate
at the fringes.

The zoetrope-like slits falling
across the seated body undressing
the dark that veils

create the vague illusion of her
moving, looming inside each
regular absence.


II

Things soon come undone, fall
apart; she starts to move through
the untangling

towards the foreground.
Other thoughts appear: Indian ink on
unhung canvasses.

And questions too:
does she think like this? has she
watched the light fall across her body

and tried to make sense of this?
did the same light touch her
when she passed this way?

all seen as now,
in the fullest flood,
in the buzzing synapses,

in the blood