Light-brown hair
And bright blue eyes,
Twinkling with secrets and stories untold.
Pale white skin -- the color
Of the paper this was written on, or perhaps the color of the walls at school.
Long legs, made to run,
Though they don't do that often.
Walking is easier.
Pink lips, sometimes tilting up at the corners, tilting down just as often;
Sometimes wide open with a yawn or a laugh,
Revealing white teeth behind,
The mouth of a singer.
Hands, pale and smooth;
Left hand calloused from violin strings, right hand a bit small and scarred from one muscle too few.
Long, thin fingers, seemingly created only to dance across the keys of a piano,
And crafted to hold a pencil with ease.
The hands of an artist.
Small nose, pointy chin, long lashes.
A shorter neck, stubborn and unyielding,
Never one to back down or, ahem, turn away. Not from any challenge.
A girl -- who takes in everything all at once,
And hopes never to forget it.
And hopes never to be forgotten.
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