She speaks the name, a cold wind hiding regrets, in the shaped contours of her eyes rests a want for forgiveness, an ache to make amends, crude shadows hide her like reeds obstructing the lily pad, she is a flower with petals ignoring bees, a crisp branch refusing a perch for robins.
Her inner torture – tied knots in her fingers.
If she had the strength to reach her grip would fail her, tenacity is void, numbness. Her Senpai warned that love and friendship would suffer should she continue. Love and friendship are the ink of which names are recorded.
This name is invisible, a cold wind hiding regrets.