As she walks in the room...
(alone against entire cities of her past selves)
... she lays and she stays. 
Amidst a veil of noise -- the voices of others can touch but can't enter her world.
Sometimes comforting sometimes disheartening,
you know the warmth of protection is also the temperature of a closed room,
uninviting anyone who might want to come in.
For now, she undresses herself from all past lovers and covers.
Learning to stay still,
to become independent of demands of the outer world, unfurled,
perhaps tomorrow, 
perhaps in a decade to come
she'll know how to replace chaos from others for the one sprouting within.
An intuition that connects us to our own nature waiting to burst,
to rise furiously from the veins
strengthening bones and thrones in its passage,
a queen in the making,
flowing towards the skin with veil-shattering confidence.
A skin thicker than blankets but softer and readier to soak all life crossing her path,
chance encounters and crafted opportunities,
she's getting ready to drink all its juices
embrace what she can become.