Pinkphilly looks up at her perfect pink canopy. it is silk, and the color of the pinkest roses. her momma’d made if for her when she was four, and even though she is five years older now, she is still thrilled by looking at it. sometimes, if she blows up at it in the right way, it billows slightly, sending rosy ripples right out into the air. and even though it’s a little silly, she likes to think that it gives the very air around her a gentle pink essence. she feels safe under it. like it is a flower petal, and she is in the center of the flower. curled around her buttercup pillow as thought it were the stamen of a tulip. in the summer her mommaPink
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"Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while a great wind carries me across the sky."
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