and she cries when she touches herself

sweet salt running down her face

over her lips

onto her toungue

she wipes madly at her cheekbones

cursing the day that would come

damning the sun and the sad stars

she runs her long fingers through her long hair

they hit every tangle and move to somewhere else

they can’t be stopped

her fingers move down to her jaw

her throat

and clutch around tightly

a small pulse gently knocks on her fingertips

she begins crying again

not understanding the beat