She had shock blue eyes and wisdom white hair, and her whole body shined of sharp winter air and spearmint. She looked at you with red lips, like rose petals against new snow, and you'd know in an instant she could slice you to pieces with the words from her tongue, slice you like a fresh knife in the cold.
When she wore blue, royal blue, it would stand out like electricity on her skin but turn up grey beneath the auroras that lingered behind her eyes.
You'd say her spirit was free and that she could never stop to love just one other. But you are wrong.
Because each love is different.
Crisp and irregular as a snowflake.