Growing gray
in the grand asylum,
she knows there
are rites being ritualized,
outside where she committed
the final transgression.
That time when she thought
burning a candle
would lead to her soul
simply being reborn;
neglecting the cautions
about lighting both ends...
Singeing herself dark
as someone from Africa
Now she cackles all the time,
"Me myself from the demimonde
used to be orange-skinned."
Before lapsing into silence
quiet as dying.