her cheeks, normally the color of moonlit marble,
burned.
all the rest of her had flushed, lending what little color she had
to that blush.

her eyes, deep and speckled sapphire,
drowned.
those lashes, longer than hell, dipped with the burden of those
tears she cried.

her hair, darker than ink in a starless night,
hung.
glossy raven tresses framed that sweet face, gently brushing
her teary chin.

She inquired my reason; asked me: "Why?"
I said, "You're Beautiful when you cry.”