from the other side of nowhere

I feel the footsteps
like growing drumbeats,
announcing
her stolid arrival -
she walks on still water;

I hear the howl
of a lone gutteral voice,
curdling the quiet
with her soul-full intolerance -
she speaks with
swords on her tongue;

I smell the singed skins
of hunted corpses,
feasted upon, then discarded
upon a blackened earth -
she smells of
a forest on fire;

I see the fangs
unfurled
behind her clenched lips,
holding back all apologies -
she holds the silence
of utter wilderness;

I watch the silhouette
of a lady
draped in black,
owning her skin,
for not being anyone
other than who she is -

the woman
from the other side of nowhere