there is a blue skinned woman.
she is old and wrinkled, she has a breathing tube.
but she has kind eyes and a fiery spirit.
there is yelling. i cannot hear it.
she is standing. maybe she is leaning. i dont quite know.
i think she is dead.
she is at least dying.
i dont think the paramedics will reach her in time.
she is beautiful.
blue is her color. it brings out her eyes.
i think i will miss her. i think i already do.
but such is the way the river flows.
and yet;
there is pain.
there is heartbreak.
this is life.
living and dying, dying and living.
thats the way it goes.
at least i will not forget the blue skinned woman.