She does not feel her own afflictions,
but reacts instead to the colors and scents
of other people’s souls.
Giggling or crying depending on the hues,
she swims through her life in perfect ignorance
of the trials and tribulations that surround her --
woes that slide off her skin like melting snow,
leaving her pure.
The last innocent left in this world,
she spins,
purging the air
and feeding us dreams,
occasionally granting a touch that brings insight
and a glimpse of childhood lost.
To look in her eyes is to look upon
all the secrets of the world,
and to know that the answers to all questions
lie with those with nothing to say.
She spins.
for Marjorie Ann Timms