Oliveyou
And she lolls those olive eyes round those shoulders, she makes up her fancy in fingerpaints. She has been touched in brushes, random and unaccounted for. There's been one sky over another, like layers of sheets, she has been climbing through them, she has been hoping for an opening, she has been twisting in blisters and popping her limbs until finally accepting her grounded fate. She has been letting her shoes do the talking. Those sure steps with smiles on the soles. People ask her why her snowy footprints are suddenly grinning and she replies "it's just where I'm going, where I'm going to go."