Mystery Lady Poem by Sonny Rainshine

I remember she used to
rub the wings of luna moths
over her eyelids
for shadow,
foreshadowing ingenuity
and a darkening cruelty.

She was a colossus cocooned
in a dollhouse; a behemoth
among forests of bonsai,
ever expanding,
the world too small
to contain her expectations,
her wingspan.

I saw her the other day,
on a dark street looking inside a café
Gazing at a flickering candle
on a bistro table,
entranced,
impatient,
incomplete,
waiting
for me?
for you?