Shaken

That taste.
That sound.
Nothing.
Nowhere.
There.
It was everything for her.

She loves
Those drops.
Salt. Clear.
Not glass.
Not from rims.
Drips.
Shaken from her forehead.
Stirred from her brows.
Salt on the lips.

It's pretty
In the mess
In the weight
In the test
No matter
No mind
In that dark place
Her home she finds.

Sound.
Every struggle
Every rattle
Every concern
She. Unwound.
Plants her feet.
Steel.
Floor.
Bolts herself
Down.
The ground.

When.
When.
Then.
(She flies.)