Behold those eyes that screamed innocence,
of words that spoke fragile,
those smiles that welcomed ether,
and crescent strands of uttered strength.
Behold that turban once flashed in celerity
and inhale the sillage of her egregious mornings
and fondest memories.
For the veracity of her being
lies between a mournful song
and a love song sung at dawn.
— Jc Joyce