HamJien

I once knew a girl
with cheecks plump with life
soft skin stretched tight
the red glow of peach skin
a lucky double peach.
Her parents called her Gold
True gold
the type that bends soft in your hands
but will not change.
She wore her mother's heart
around her wrist, a heavy bangle
and her mother carried her against her skin
warm with the heat and work.
I knew her small hands
with sticky fingers and pink crescent moons
because she had seen her mother
with the tiny nail brush and had wanted
had needed that magic too.
She scowled and laughed too loud,
 always loud
and the house turned around her.
True gold, they told her, shines softly
but she shook her head.
She blazed.