Sula Peace

The blows from a kiss could make her at peace.
Like is better than love in her world
No matter for lovers who would die for her; even the one's who fight to stay alive for her.

Sweet, icy words of non promise broken and shattered over their heads
Charring the holy hands of others with vengeance caused not by jealousy but a desire to be like her whom they aspire to be.

A day in rambunctious laughter makes her needs casual and makes wanting for nothing more of a need than air
Silk hats and gloved hands don't sway her eyes gaze
Silk is in her lungs just like the water was in the boy's in the lake
She lived away from home while people died in the Bottom.

The night brings a fit of sweat and heat from what is expected of her youth
Day brings new opportunity to leave the present behind leading her site in the familiarities of her journey in the past.
Ironically, others work hard to confirm her future.

Future is present. Past is what matters to Sula Peace. She lives forward but backwards ending the back and forth with a gaping stare and a mouth wide open for more even after pretty silk had left her.