She crawled out of the gutter

brushed herself off as if no one was watching

and she covered her hues of blues

while she didn't feel the stinging wind

and everyone else held their heads

with such displeasurement

like it had nothing to do with them

like she didn't need a single one of them

but years passed and she couldn't forget

his face, his flesh, his force.

He had stained her memory

and the memory has stained her.

The displeased find her crowded

with thoughts of unease and restlessness

and all she can stop to do is

make her paper cranes with trembling fingers