The pale little girl with the long brown curls and small bare feet. The pale little girl shrunken in the corner that keeps her hidden, that banks the echoes sharply and holds in her tears lit of a violent ache. The pale little girl closes her eyes, remains still, silent, “To avoid being seen.” she sighs, and looks to the tiny fairy that alights upon her knee, “You are so brave, my little one. So very brave and beautiful.” The pale little girl exhales, sharing her warm breath, knowing what’s real between the savage air and furious skin. Best to stay motionless than feel such things. The pale little girl, With the long brown curls And small bare feet. Hushed between worlds. © 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
(The Weaver's Song)