Her eyes were a marbled sunrise
Set eternally downcast
Hair clung to her slick skin
Lightened in under the moon’s caress
They shoved her, but she did not wince
They jeered though she spoke no offence
She cried, though she made no tears
And he loved her for it
Though she smiled in her stone heart
Hair like a burial shroud
Thin as a spider’s tightrope cloud
He touched but her pulse wouldn’t jump to reach his fingers
And she turned away, though she did not move
A girl made of stone may love
Though she smiled not, nor spoke
And when he was gone
She did not weep
But she broke
Ancien Hippie 