I look into the diminutive strangers eyes. They looked as if they were supposed to belong the light blue realm of heavenly shades. But rather set this aside to reside in morose dissonance. They had transitioned to the inky grey color of one thousand dusty crows at midnight screeching mutinously. Sullen rings surround these mysterious gray marbles. The skin around the woman's face is pinched back as if her ears were seeking shelter from the inevitable battle between the crows and their angelic predessecirs.

 

The pink raspberry mouth signals signals treachery accompanied be a never ending silence. The lips at first seem as if they may be scrunched into a twisted frown for misery or disappointment. After a closer look, the two petals whisper hopelessness. It is as if the lips have a mind of their own when they whisper, 'help me'