An ordinary

albeit introverted

young girl

She would make willow-branch crowns 

pronounce herself queen

of all empty 

and forgotten spaces

She runs between the fence boards

to protect her unnoticed

untouched

pieces of the world

Since they belong to no one else

they are hers

She stands in a county-fair crowd

still

among the complex moving spaces between fairgoers

Completely by coincidence 

no one seems to move through her piece of space

Vaguely she wonders

is it because she is standing there?

She is introverted because no one speaks to her

She prefers imagination because she is imaginary

She does not exist

She is a regular to places just as others are

She spends whole days in theaters

In the dark

lights and sounds cast around her

fill, through her

the screen is her vision

She is

She is her own non-existence