She stares into the red like she knows something I don’t. Her skin glows cool under the heat, freckles scattered like tiny sparks across her cheeks. Black hair curls soft around her face, holding secrets close. Her eyes are quiet storms, lips painted bold like she’s ready to speak truth even when the world stays silent. She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t hide. Just there, steady, carrying light and shadow at the same time. She feels like the part of me that’s still learning how to be seen. Strong. Soft. Unafraid. Her.