It lay. Gleaming with polished ribbons and delicate pearls
Reflected in a .mirror with high curls in pig tails
The rosy pink complementing her name and mouth mouths
Counting the numbers of bows in her hair (in her eyes)
and ruffles on her dress
"it will return in a year or two" she cries while heartshaped tears
cut through the white powder she is decorated with.
She dabbles herself in memories and light. It lies.