She'll cry herself to sleep tonight.The tears will roll down her olive skin, magnifying those carefully spaced freckles. She wishes she was someone else.
While I find her perfect. I'd put in my pennies just to watch her move. She's afraid of feeling comfortable. She doesn't want to be outcasted while I know she's in the village and not outside keeping watch over it. I'll reserve my chest for her head. I'll get her one of the diamond drops among the nightsky quilt. I'll make her cross her eyes and distort the image of the moon. And ask her what new images are there.
I hope she wakes up smiling. Her cheeks will crack from that happy curve. To