i saw the sweetest little girl the other day. She was sixteen, with pretty, doe-like eyes, a spring in her steps, and brown eyes tinged with subdued grief. She was a diamond, the sweetest diamond, raw and yet in the process of being chiselled to perfection. She was wild, untamed, graceful, and had the heart of a little mermaid.
When I look at her, I see the sea. Strangely calm in the face of adversity.
I see the woods,not just the tree, not just the leaf on the tree. I see the stem connecting that leaf to the tree.
It is past midsummer and she sparkles like the sunshine when it meets the water in the river. There are ripples on the surface, and there are sun-flecked waves. She is both.
I see her eyes widen, her smile blooming like a dove-like ensemble, and her hand reach out, to gain some experience in this fleeting world. She does get it. She tries. She is beautiful, sweet, and graceful.
Flaws, stitched together with good intentions. An entirely becoming disposition. A gooey, warm, palpable, melting sweetness, hollow eyes radiant with the sunshine spirit of yore, a jouissance untold.
A little girl. Growth, all hers. Love, hers, for the taking. She sipped warm coffee and smiled. She got this. This was her reality.