She imagined a room with no doors or windows, a cold stick to the floor as she sat wondering what it was she’s looking for, are you in or out? She is a reclusive shoreline that can never reach the breeze. Just as she is skittish in a crowd of hurdled strangers with little power to hold her head high, while avoiding the eyes, because she does not exist. It seems as if desolate could be her forte, but even she can’t accept her own being when she looks through me. Let alone the thought of others which cloud her sense of self, but little did she know how glorious a change in thought could be. Say, are you in or out? Seeing that she took no time to hesitate, I gaze through and yet had it focus back on her sudden smile. Each day she smiles and goes just like that. She doesn’t pay any mind unless faced with herself. She is too damn beautiful.