…broken diamonds

…her cart was full- stacked high with what mattered to her- with what was seen as nothingness to others-

she sat on the edge of the sidewalk- multiple blankets covering her- holding them tight-

and even while driving, time stopped; and we locked eyes- and she spoke her pain to me with still lips-

and I sat upright on that same pavement- multiple blankets covering me too- and my own cart was full- stacked high with what mattered to me-

one stare pulled me in- and I too were amongst the broken diamonds-

I still see her- and I still cry-

as anyone could be moments from her story- this brown skinned beauty with patches of sorrow- what are her talents? what are her gifts? when did the cold air bring flu to her mind?

but even so, when did she succumb to it?

but even so,

will I? 😞