began_to_murmur_a_little_prayer fyn gula a light blue robin's egg, the color of the sky on the second day of summer, sits on your tilted fingertips. with deft movement, you roll it on to your palm. "is there anything more beautiful?" you ask, morning sunlight reflecting of your lip piercing. "beauty such as this, i have not seen until this day," i said, looking into your eyes. 020622 what's it to you? who go blather from