08-05-2015, 08:04 PM
<p style="margin:0in 0in 0pt;"><font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="3">Expressions</font>
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<p style="margin:0in 0in 0pt;"><font size="3"><font color="#000000"><font face="Times New Roman">I remember the way she spoke to her world, though always I didn’t understand the words. A language of eye, of skin held by muscle in poses rather than the inadequate mumblings of speech. </font></font></font>
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<p style="margin:0in 0in 0pt;"><font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="3">Small half folded ears held at 45 degrees, brow ridges peaked like our tent as bright brown eyes follow a butterflys erratic flight before her twitching nose, her body relaxed yet ready. Curious, just slightly, “Who are you in my world? Where do you go, why are you here?”</font>
<p style="margin:0in 0in 0pt;"><font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="3"> </font>
<p style="margin:0in 0in 0pt;"><font color="#000000" face="Times New Roman" size="3">Ears full forward, eyes wide but not showing white, body tense as a spring as the errant butterfly lands smack on her little back. Surprise, “Are you a friend who touches me? Will you hurt me?”</font>