The lines of her hands had been born with her before the finger prints
her eyes had settled blue when she first opened them
the dimples came when she was a few months old
and her name was the signature of Artemis herself -
loved completely as she slept in the womb of women
loved abundantly when her cries of life echoed in the ripples of Narcissus's reflection

she was purest the moment breath came into her
and most peaceful when the last sigh escaped her ancient lungs