Dear Diary …. by Kellianne Sweeney

Porcelain eyes

Reflecting

Turbulent skies.

The face is still.

Smooth gloss,

The features are marred not

By the passing storms

Within and without.

The cherry lips

Are chiseled into a parted, slight smile

Etched into a perfect expression.

Pretty, little doll.

You are fragile.

Easily shattered from an errant gust.

Shining pieces scattered.

But the jagged shards will be carefully gathered

And replaced again

With weary determination

And whispered sighs.

Smooth gloss, once more.

The disruption will not show.

Only perhaps a tiny chip behind the ear

And an inconsistency now

At the corner of that frozen, beautiful, half-smile.

Until the next fall.