Polka dots upon her shirt and dead words in her hands. Dead words in her hands. No child understands. Minds may drift, their shells will hurt, an ache such speech demands.
Words will flow then disappear and leave no fading gleam. Leave no fading gleam, no beauty, no esteem. No sounds exist (to please the ear) from heads which cannot dream.
An original work of A.K. Neu. Please do not steal.