A petulant smile, upper lip quiver,
never-ending streams of jubilant free
pours the honeyed golden, emerald eyes
smoked in calm to hide the sparkle speaks,
“I want…take me…so much to give…but I fear,”
all in fragility, fresh and tainted only at the fringes,
circling the crystal center yet to form whole, complete,
she deftly ball-toes the river logs spinning a strange land.