the flashover

i saw her sipping on a cup of tea just the other day
and what she said made sense but also faded
a transparent shadow, never there and never even slightly gay
and not a train of thought was clearly operated

she looked away, in her head played a casual band
while her eyes at the stars, cassiopeia
between her fingers a john player special and
in her hand a cup of black chaia

she shook her fist at the sky but was too weak to be shaken
she got the gist of her lie but she was also mistaken
she found a tear in her mind and our stares stopped
while the idea of escape firstly flared up

then the flashover: hooray, a meltdown in six parts:
part one the arrogance, part two the broken hearts
part three there was a hopeful shimmer in her eyes
part four she took the parka off, her silent disguise

she walked across the room and stopped infront of us (five)
and without hesitation went for a rave up (six)
it needed just sign and then the room became alive
though we already gave up, she wasn’t hard to fix

i see her dancing to a melody on a night of may
and what she does amazes, never tends to stop
there are her cigarettes and dreams, a shout of joy goes through the mob
and then it seems as if she’s there
hooray