In a tomb that love forgot
lay a girl that love forgave.
Centuries never left a spot,
and in the tomb, she did behave,

but she tired of waiting there
for the lover, that she desired.
Juliet had forgotten his face,
but, thinking of him, she never tired.

The door to the crypt did crack.
Fools exhumed her there.
All their faces slack;
they couldst naught but stare.

For the light did not consume her;
didst not illuminate, beyond a glance.
Forthwith, they didst entomb her
That shard of flesh left them, askance.

She says I'm funny,
She says I remind her of money,
Because I smell like I could buy her diamonds,
She's hooked by the way I'm nutty like almonds,
But we have problems, like dogs have flea's,
With every romantic notion, she splits and flees.

I don't know what it is about her,
I just know I can't live without her,
So I'm the druggie and she's the crack,
I'm hoping one day she'll take me back,
To a time that's close to a brighter tomorrow,
Yet the present without her feels like sorrow.

Oh, if I could have her for just one day,
Maybe the rain and clouds would go away,
To reveal a magnificent, shining sun,
So I can be Superman again and save everyone,
But I'm not lucky, I guess I'm not,
Because all she does is make me rot.

Like someone's favorite sandwhich left out in the cold,
I'll remember every moment with her until I'm old,
Because even without her, she's still my valentine,
The feeling of being inside her gets me every time,
Just make it happen God, stop keeping us apart,
I know she's the moon, I'm the earth, but love is art.

You have to draw the line between the dots,
You have to carve a groove in all the slots,
To get to the heart of the woman in charge,
Of your soul the one that's very large,
I hate this feeling, like, what am I missing?
A boat, the open sea, us... Kissing?

That's right, that would be the perfect moment,
I hurt her once, but that wasn't what I meant,
To do, that's why I'm telling you this,
Moments of happiness may feel like bliss,
However, when you meet the perfect one,
If she says something like, we're done,

Just take off and run,
As fast as you can,
Don't worry about the tears,
It's a part of being a man.

I've sent letters,
but, she waits.
One letter received,
in it, she states:
I'm not your meal
so discard the plates;
your silver wears me down;
so do your dates.

Into my lair
I solemnly hide,
in token despair
with no wondrous bride,
and down in the gutter,
whilst churning the butter,
the demons do mutter:
my mind's open wide.

I take a vacation
to find some elation,
but lo and behold
I find her there, old!
How is it I'm mired
in paradox transpired
how could she have waited
till she grew old, vacant?

I tremble violently
the spirits dine with me
a feast of illusions break me
because sleep is a memory.

When did I last sleep
grains of sand ne'er grace my eyes
never caked with desert lullabies
So dry, I can barely weep.

I don't remember what nightmares are
and though dreams haunt me
I don't know where they are
they're neither near nor far.

I've been awake so long I'm twice my age
I'm so tired I cannot even call on rage
Lust lies asleep while I watch it slumber
Hunger feeds on itself in a sightless umbra.

There are times when the astral planes call me
I stumble, my eyes droop, I feel heavy
It's like I'm embalming, passing into shadow
But I must continue to work, for I am a slave.

Some day I will sleep and I may never wake.
Such waking would be a second birth, fit for a cake.
How many candles would adorn this pastry?
I don't give a hoot, so long as it's tasty.

Keep staring my love.
Stare until you bore a hole into me.
Stare until you can see my insides and question my diet.
Stare until you watch me being born and dying.
When the echoes of our arguments fade.
Stare a little longer.
Stare until bittersweet becomes only bitter,
And when my walk towards you,
Pushes you away...
When you stare into madness,
Will you also see hope?

...

Maybe then you'll come back to me.
Because the hope you saw was my love,
Drying your tears.

A kiss of course, a kiss that was, a token of affection;
At least, in mind, this he assumed, by eager predilection…
But the kiss, made him, a loaded gun,
With darkening dreams and maddening fun.
Too close to sun; he flew and fell;
Too deep was it, the frigid well.
He ended up, in chains and vices;
Telling of tragedies, demises,
And in the ear, of reason lost,
By she, he was told, of kiss’ cost:
He sits to this day, rotting away… crying aloud... thrashing,
Because he kissed, the succubus, and lost his soul in passing.

He was created to be destroyed.

He was invited to be denied,
and when the ice melted his anger,
and when the fire froze his joy,
he watched the sea swallow his love...
He watched the sea swallow his love.

Due to unintended mirth,
He complied to fate without worth,
He witnessed a damnable birth,
A thing with sinful girth.

He worshiped it still,
until he lost his will,
swallowing pill for thrill,
every **** for the mill,
to be ground into waste.

Even the moon was draped in slime,
even the sun ran out of time,
even the stars lost their shine,
even beauty no longer sublime.

I was there when he took his life,
I watched with hunger--holding knife,
to devour what was left,
a box of cereal; ate and left.

He wonders continually in another realm,
wondering at fore of helm:
why spit out of life like phlegm?

He was destroyed to be created.

We are of the sea, she and I.
Like the oyster and the pearl,
She is the mother of our passion.
Goddess of the tumultuous ocean.
I can taste the salt on her skin.
Remnants from the pearls of sweat,
That bubbled from her vista.

I imagine she is a mermaid;
Her tail threshing,
Her hair, tentacles in the current.
Her body, glistening reflections of the sky.
Smooth skin, under my furling tongue,
The delicate scales on her skin,
Balancing the fervent desires I withhold.

Only a moment too late,
The fire dies, but again,
We’re swept away in a wave of emotion
That sends us careening towards,
Another plateau of ecstasy.
Once again, a tide of change,
Carries us, to a world anew.

We are of another world she and I.
We speak of the masks we play in life.
Like the lunar seasons, crescent and full.
How malleable our voices are, from day to day.
Yet we speak the same language.
No alien words do we trade,
When our tongues meet on battleground.

All is fair here, where love and war take flight.
Where sounds ne'er carry into the night,
Orbiting the earth at the whim of lust.
Our hands trade a different sort of trust,
When gestures are the only words we know.
We see the canvas of the earth.
The colors that personify life in full bloom.

We can paint the world in our image.
Clouds will spiral into tender lips,
And kiss the winds across the heavens.
The fields of the earth, shall burst forth,
Bouquets of flowers,
As peace shall be wed with humanity.
These are the dreams we share; she and I.

I've been around the world.
Yes, I've been around the world.
A vast garden of trees and lakes.
A tender yet mighty beauty unfurled.

The only thing that makes sense,
To my eyes of pruning; whence,
Did I desire a thing with petals?
A thing with all love's contents?

I do know the world,
Yes, I know the world,
But what I imagine I know not,
Something called a girl?

I'll tinker here and also there,
A little dirt, air and my hair,
What grows here in my garden.
Will soon be everywhere!

I've tried to imagine this,
A passionate, soft kiss.
Manufactured by my power,
It'll be here by the hour.

Yet what I grew from dirt,
Hair, air, and a water squirt,
Seems to be a pile of mud,
With this I can't even flirt!

Oh, can't I have a dream?
Not the milk, but the cream?
There can't be a secret more,
To my new and legendary chore!

I feel alone and spiteful,
This garden's no longer "full",
My hair falls out like petals,
Or how I imagine they would fall...

I look over my failed creation,
And I give it condemnation,
A tear travels to nose's crook,
It falls upon my aberration.

Pow! Like this. Pow! Like that.
Sparks fly and I don't eat my hat,
because what happens before me,
I simply can't not stare at!

Her delicious curves, radiant hair,
Eyes like my garden, a loving stare,
I can't believe what I have done,
Because she is not just anyone!

She is my love, this I can tell,
My heart is healed and I am swell,
Now I can say that I did find,
The flower of my garden.

The waves undulated as if
they were the backs of 100 wriggling worms
The sky shed tears as if
a 1000 angels wept for the death of hope
black clouds roiled, sparking with fury
casting lightning down upon the mire
but below, upon the sea,
a miracle was set to transpire.

A boat rushed down and over the waves...
Back and forth,
a juggler's ball tossed and turned it appeared to be.
Yet, despite the malice,
and the seething spite of the sea,
the boat was safe
snug as can be.

And in this boat was a silent baby
his eyes stared out into the turmoil
he did not understand the frustrations of the elements
how they wished to smite him where he lay.
Despite the twisting of the boat
he did not roll, nor did water coat
his soft cheeks, his baby blanket
he passed on into sleep,
into dream he
went.

He awoke to battles raging about him
the crashing of thunder
was the desolation of a mountain
the world knew war for the first time
deaths in the billions, no pasture without crime.

He stood as a man
with bearded face
skin like the earth
armor embraced.
He realized he held a mighty weapon
it gleamed in his hands
power coursed through his veins
down to his soul
up to the heavens!
A beacon of light he seemed to be
but heir to destruction he truly was.
He did not know what power does
to the feint of heart
to the well-intentioned...
He struck the ground amidst the battle
the whole Earth shook, oh, the chattering teeth!
The mountains lumbered to form again
as if by the shovels of skyward giants!
The battle paused for the barest of moments
the awe was palpable
like a kingly feast
but the people's hearts hadn't forgotten the pain
their hate surged up, like volcanic bile
despite their peace present for a while
the massacres began again in earnest
perhaps more so than before his deed.
No one knew the power he wielded.

He still had hope, he could do something!
But what greater act was there than mending mountains?
His heart was up to good,
but his mind couldn't ground him.

"I must stop their wanton annihilation!"
He roared within himself,
"Are they not my people? Am I not their savior?"
He went to the most heated battle
struck the air with his weapon
and every person's foe was replaced by their loved ones.
The battle ceased in an instant.
Each person stared in utter disbelief.
By what power had this happened?
It was said that mountains climbed back into place,
but what could summon loved ones,
even from the grave!
The fighting ceased despite their hatred,
and the stories magnified in flavor.
Many who were hungry
for peace from the storm of violence
fed upon the hearts of those in doubt
they claimed they knew who stopped the battle
they hoped to mobilize a peace effort.
He gathered these hopeful souls
banded them together so their efforts became tenfold!
Soon enough, the stories crept across the lands
across the seas
and underground.
For once, hope had purchased ground,
but hate, when cloistered, beaten back, starved,
becomes ever more malevolent,
ever more conniving.

He did not call his people an army,
he called them the Samaritan Initiative.
They did not fight their war with weapons of battle,
they fought with hands that mend and bind,
they saved the sick and the dying,
they uplifted the oppressed and those denying.

As time passed, his efforts grew,
but someone used his deeds as currency,
mobilized the scandalous, the warmongering,
someone hated he who mended the broken...
Someone plotted his demise.

He led his Samaritans across the world
each place they touched was left whole again
and though war still did reign, rotting and true,
he did not tire to end the end.

A new beginning he hoped to create,
but whispers that he was a fraud began to sate
the ears of those whose purpose it is to doubt peace,
they sowed the malice back into the healing wounds
soon enough, his power began to abate,
therefore, rumors seemed to be true.

He grew restless when he was barred from homesteads
barred from cities,
even countries!
Somehow these echoes of forgotten civilization rose
only to defy him
and he smelled someone's stench in the air.
His weapon yearned for someone's death.
For once, it did not wish to mend, but break,
and he felt spiteful all the more.
All the adoration he had garnered
had blinded him from his true purpose.
He sought out the taint that spread its tendrils.
"Someone."
He said,
"Is ruining my... empire..."

One day, while regrowing a desolated forest with his weapon,
someone came to see him.
She smiled at him, marvelled at his work.
"Who are you?"
He wondered, suddenly charmed.
"Someone you know..."
She grinned.
He spent weeks distracted and curious about her,
what was her riddle all about
and why did he feel her in his heart?
She did not seem to threaten or scheme
in fact her presence was a dream
and he yearned after her like nothing he knew
his mission delayed
his plans askew.
Many around him questioned him saying,
"Who exactly is it with whom you're playing?"
He would blush,
"Oh, someone..."

One day,
she did not meet him at their lover's spot.
She did not appear for a week, then another.
His mind began to churn about the months.
Since when had he last sent forth his healers,
or mended cities and silenced weapons dealers?
He began to be suspicious of her
he could have summoned her with a flick of his weapon,
but he dared not discover if she really were foe,
for if he should break, what can he grow?

Eventually, she appeared again,
smiling broadly, like an old friend.
He then knew the anger that so many harbored...
Oh, the twisted things he felt by her abandon,
the sheer weight of his turmoil felt too much to bear....
So he ****** it upon her without any care.
His voice was louder than a church bell,
flashing out across the forest where they would meet.
She cried out in fear
she ran from him swift
he chased after with guilt he couldn't lift.
He found her weeping by a well
on his knees he apologized incessantly.
"How could there be darkness in you,
the mender?"
Her question struck him in all places tender.
Doubt crept into his addled mind.
His weapon's glow flickered
his conscience was blind.
Surely not now should he have such trouble?
Could it really be so simple to pop his bubble?
"I love you more than I can bear!
When you leave me,
I begin to tear."
She nodded and held him close to her.

Someone watched from shadows not far,
they saw his frailty,
like a door ajar...

The months passed and he went back to work
new cities to grow and malice to mend
people saw him more for the savior he was
even though the rumors of fallacy were abuzz.

A special time became the moment of his life worthy of note,
a marriage to the woman whose life he knew by rote.
They consummated in the night and in the day.
Time seemed to stretch on and shrink all at once.
His happiness was a thing of infectious charm,
but all that glittered soon became alarm.

Upon returning home from time spent mending the broken world,
he returned to find his home
covered in blood.
He knew whose blood coated the walls.
Bones, ground into paste, smothered pictured frames.
Flesh reduced to pulp covered the floor.
His mind fractured in no way subtle.
The light of his weapon winked out with no rebuttal.
He wept uncontrollably in fits of despair.
The world seemed cold, frozen over,
desolate of love or laughter.
"I can't bear to live."

Someone crept in through the doorway.
"It's a shame, isn't it?
No man is greater than any other,
yet no man is born equal.
No man lives without love,
but every man dies alone.
Maybe you can understand now,
why we deserve our own genocide...
Maybe now you'll let us fight to the death,
and have our peace that way!"

He looked up and,
despite the pure evil that stood before him,
he did not see that.
He saw someone lost,
someone abused,
someone desperate for truth,
any truth.
He saw someone fighting to love something,
anything.
He saw someone forgotten by loved ones
after committing acts that person was unable to avoid.
He saw a frightened being
lashing out at the world
in the hopes that the suffering would end.
He felt boundless compassion.

"I have no power left."
He said.
"No power to mend or bind.
No power worth your scorn."

"I'm going to **** you now."

"If I'm to die,
I hope my blood is enough for all who suffer."

"You're no messiah! You're just a lie we all want to believe!"

"If I was just a man...
I would have died when you killed her.
I would have hungered for torturous retribution.
But you have broken no one.
You're someone who needs to see your own suffering
out in the world
to justify the injustice dealt upon you.
But for every drop of effort you put into destroying her,
I wish you never experience my pain.
I wish to mend what drove you to break me,
so no one else may be harmed by you,
or anyone you inspire to deal death."

"No, I defeated you..."

"You tried..."

The weapon flickered.

"No, no, you can't feel love for me...
You don't have the *****."

"I have very big *****."

"You think you can love me?
After how I destroyed you!"

"If I could be destroyed,
I would already be dead!"

The weapon burst forth with light!

The killer realized they were someone foolish
Someone lost
Someone in need of healing.
For if "he" could not be broken,
surely there was hope.
If he could mend mountains
bring back loved ones and unite lost families
grow cities from the earth itself
grow forests from twigs
and deny a cold-hearted killer
the satisfaction
the honor
of seeing the fractures of a shattered soul
in blood-red, swollen, tearful eyes,
perhaps this man,
this one man,
could reveal what love is
to the killer's own famished soul.

He saw something shift in the eyes of that tortured someone.

That's when he realized...
That's when he understood.
He had the thirst for solving puzzles,
but humanity is not a machine,
it is a collection of gears
each just as vital as the whole,
for the whole does not exist without the worth
of every individual.
And to ignore an individual like this...
Someone who stood at the center of all the woe,
the evil,
and the tragedy in the world.
To ignore them would be to throw out the puzzle completely.

"May I mend you?"

Realizing they were someone facing an open door,
that person nodded.

He struck that person with his weapon.
Light flooded out as if by the sun itself.
Time seemed to stop.
People looked up in wonder of the light.
The very winds halted,
seas stilled,
nature perked up in unison.

When the light faded, he saw himself staring in a mirror.
The man in the mirror had blood-stained hands.

He stepped across the threshold and hugged himself.
His darkness hugged him back and the blood seemed to vanish.

"I forgive myself for killing her."

His darkness melted into a bulbous, gooey form and sank into him,
as if he were some kind of sponge,
leaving no trace of the darkness visibly.
He accepted within himself that he was capable of
unimaginable evil.
He accepted that he had control
and that he was responsible for the health and sickness
of the world.

Around him, the world began to shift.
In fact, it appeared to melt into liquid
and splash around him.
The liquid became clear, like the ocean.
It splashed and slid,
rocking him about.

Light flashed!

The baby awoke, curious about the world around him.
His boat had touched some distant shore.
Flecks of water spotted his cheeks and he laughed.

A couple crept up to the boat.
"I swear I heard a baby," a man said.
"You're crazy," a woman said, "Out here?"
The couple looked within the boat
and found the baby smiling at them with his
toothless, innocent smile.
The woman held a hand to her chest in awe.
She tenderly carried the baby out of the boat
and rocked it in her arms.
The baby laughed.
The man reached out.
"Not that hand!" The woman said, "You just cut yourself!"
"It's okay, no blood anymore, see?"
He pinched the baby's cheeks.
The baby touched his hand.
His **** healed in an instant!
"Woah!" The woman yelled.
Feeling for a scar where there were none,
the man stared in wonder at the child.
"Honey," he said, "This kid's got potential..."

My old darling, she sighed,
as she relinquished my affections
roses and keepsakes,
delicacies and carnal delights.

Your pining weighs heavy,
she whispered in fatigue,
I cannot bear your sorrows
as I kiss you goodbye.

Holding my slack-jawed chin, she smiles,
this will be the last time,
for there is a world to see
that's bigger than you...

Her kisses needle
like the deathly caress of winter.
Her lustful embrace
like the coils of a python.
Even inside she is jagged and unforgiving
as is a cave sought out in desperation
discovered to be the abode of a black bear.

Yet I need her.

I cannot let her go.
I insist, take from me my skin,
my soul.
Whatever you need to stay warm.
Whatever will cover your hollow form.
If I should shiver, it is in my fear of your abandon.
If I should cry, it is the milk upon which you shall suckle.
If I should die, it is only that you may feast.
But please,
let it not be the last time...

Is it mortal anger that you desire?
Do you crave wrath in its divine fervor?!

Is it a devil may care grin you favor?
Do you lust for my cold shoulder, akin to tundras and the endless expanse of space?

It'll be fine, she says,
there are plenty more fish in the sea.
Fish for you.
Fish for me.

The last time!
I bellow,
any moment could be our last!
Any breath can become a rasping choke for life!
Any midnight stroll could turn you into roadkill!
Any night of the soul could be your last grip upon sanity!

Any romance can become a suicide.

Any last time could be your last time alive.

You say it's the last time?
Then our love is surely dead,
and I am that ghost wandering in those halls,
looking for you,
calling out in vain,
for you have moved on to the after life.
After us.

Last time?
I guess there's a first time for everything,
even the end.

Her death was like quicksand
I tried to escape the grief
I tried to run, swim, crawl
but, like spectral arms,
I was dragged back beyond the precipice
down into the gravely depths
down to my despair.

I sought after her and found crumbs
but the trail of bread yielded only hunger,
hunger for perhaps her scent
perhaps echoes of her voice as she fades
into the distance
perhaps her reflection trapped in a mirror
any sign that she were still living
but the world had closed her chapter
and my hunger became a fasting...
I once hoped for love everlasting,
but my truth will never be love ever-after.

Just when I thought hope was forgotten,
I found an envelope with her name scrawled upon it.
Her crest engraved the wax of the seal.
The torment of her abandonment sunk into me once more,
and the quicksand trickled all around.
How dare I imagine her again?
How dare I open this audacious package.
Indeed,
I pry open the letter with haste,
mouth dry, tongue limp like dry wood,
eyes bulging,
my nourishment is within this envelope, of course!

Indeed,
within it, I find cobwebs and shame.
A picture of her I had never seen.
Her arm wrapped around the trusted embrace of a suitor
and I cannot penetrate this world she has found,
I do not belong.

I burn the picture...
With each spark of the fading image,
somehow I am freed
and the chains she bound to my soul are now vines
I reside in a fortress, barren, but safe.
Unassailable.
Cold.
"Darling?" I hear.
My wife peeks down from the stairs,
"Supper is ready..."
Of course.
Of course a mistress can never be real.
She will ever be a phantom.
And phantoms can never say farewell.
They were never there.

Toe-skewered socks shuffled in years-tattered shoes
Patched-up tweed elbows rested gently; arms folded in poised disapproval
He was my teacher
A man steeped in the essence of the written word
Every bump and groove of his face were the syllables of a life long-lived
Stressed and unstressed beats of the tension between us denoted his impatience
For he and I saw the word a different way
He detracted the sweetness of my plum-purple prose
and I loathed the strictness and banality of his expert structure, his measured cadence
but we could agree on one thing
We loved the word
We loved every echo of it in the long night
After fires fade and blue birds sleep
How dreams tumble out of the mouths of snoring dissidents
See those murmurs become the dialectic, the dreams, of poets and gods galore!
We agreed on this
The desperate cry of freedom
Yet we could not agree on his score of my work
Which I had so passionately written till early morning
Rings of the moon beneath my eyes as I argue
And his stonewall-gaze leaves my arguments blunt
For you are young, he says, you do not know the way of the pen, still
With sword I could ply approval from his lips
Rend his flesh asunder
Feed the dogs and the birds
Leave marks on his children like slave brands,
The power of the sword could make him do as I asked!
Exactly as I asked…
But with pen I could get nary a nod
I abandoned my search for his smile that day
Yet not the pen
In fact, I pressed firm, not with the nib, but with my mind
Day by day
Hour by hour
Past midnight into dreamland, by the light of the cosmos I composed worlds into waking
Tirelessly, my fingers plodded upon the keyboard
I watched the letters tick by
On and on
Full speed ahead
As if I were running
Outrunning…
Him
That stonewall-gaze
Peering down at my soul from an emerald tower
Each keystroke was a step away
A step beyond, years beyond
I sought my pleasure where it could be found
The approval of my peers
My professors
My colleagues
My fans
Scores of adoration, as if by the metric-ton
Still running
As if a scarlet letter of FAILURE were etched in my soul
And just like that,
My running came to a stop
As news of his death reached the shore of my self-imposed exile
Exile from shame
Exile from disappointment
I saw myself more lowly than ever
As, for after all those years of running, those stonewall-eyes had gone to sleep
And had not cared for my embarrassment
My resentment
My bitterness
Indeed
It were as if I were fighting a ghost I created
And look where it got me
To the top of the world
Chased into an emerald tower
Alone
Fearing myself a fraud at the ease of my keystrokes
How could such talent belong to a failure?
Well the man who proved I was a failure was dead
And I realized
So, too, should my defensive pride live no longer
So, too, should I free myself of the fear that manifests the agonizing toll of the pursuit of perfection
So, too, should I realize…
Just because he did not approve
Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t approve of myself
Exit stage left
Where dreams await
And I learn to enjoy what the dissidents dreamed
A life in which our dreams live free
No longer sheltered in the embrace of our childhood nightmares
No longer living in fear…

Torrents of vapor ridden wind, snatched at her hair.

Below, rattled the rapid, riotous and vast, rippling sea.

Churning, like a chewing, charming serpent's lair.

Once long ago I knew her; with time she left me be.


On the edge she was, with will to leap t'wards the horizons.

The brittle cliff would not give way, for even it was curious.

Dare say all of nature reacted for the most prurient reasons.

Even the sky descended to watch, with a lightning so furious.


She beheld no fear and the sky wept with thunderous applause.

Her bare marble-like features glistened in the gleaning of the gloom.

Why she stood there, triumphantly, tempting, terror, for what cause?

It will never be known, for she never was, in a time before this doom.


The earth shook like the hands of a beleaguered, berated old man.

It erected monoliths. Volcanoes, pluming molten magma skyward.

The red glow brought heat; earth thought to please her, or so was its plan.

The elements wrestled for the better view of that beauty stalwart.


Never had a sight been so majestically violent, so mightily tame.

Where she stood, should and would forever more be a sacred place.

The tempest of the elements raged on, though none would win the game.

A silence, softly, settled the rambunctiousness, and halted their race.


The skies parted with a sad and lowly somberness.

Every elated, embittered, element safely put to rest.

As the sun swept aside all their postulated, pettiness.

Rays of the sun showered her with bright white zest.


The lady, she moved with unfathomable grace.

She tilted her perfect head up to the skies.

With the slightest of a smile shook her face.

Like all before, she left them there surprised... and forever, there she stood.