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