dream from better days.
She cannot tell you what dream she is in. Sweet like children with a tongue like prophets she'll say things too. She wanted to be bare foot even when it was cold. There were never sometimes any shoes. Maybe. She had shoes once, actually, but then they walked off. Strings and shoes and ribbons tied together, as red as a cherry.
Bright lights make her eyes hurt and white skin means summer is shadows but she loves staring at the sun, candle flames, fire, bright things that burn. White hair, white skin, white whites but not white clothing. Her eyes were purple star bursts, galaxies of secrets laid right open.
A little flake of snow. Blink and she will melt away.