And in your eyes, she twisted and wriggled. A snake slithering through the path in front of you. She, an electrically charged molecule that shook and exploded, a whole planet hotter than mars, a hiss with a sting. A bite with delight.
Through these eyes the picture grew through mist. Extended through fingertips. Fell upon paper, and with a swish what the artist had drawn, became what we once had mourned.
That the day we saw beauty like a thorn.
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