The Little Girl I Knew

She believed in fairies
The little girl I knew
She had a little fairy
It sat on the window sill
Her fingers wound tightly
Around the baby blue flower
Her delicate face
Her eyes like black caviar.
Her dress was the petals of a dying rose.
They were friends, the girl and the fairy
She woke to the sound of her laughter
She slept to the silent sound of her soul subtly slipping
From here to somewhere.
She was the only one who could hear her laughter
The tintinnabulation of bells in the morning
The only one who could feel her tears
As they danced across her cheeks
To music quieter than death.
The only one who could see her fly
The little girl I knew.
She disappeared, the little girl
The little girl I knew
Fluttered somewhere far inside
And all that’s left of the little girl
The little girl I knew
Is a little fairy on the windowsill.
She has no one to hear her laughter
No one to feel her tears
No one to see her fly
The little fairy on the windowsill.
She’s as dusty as the keys of an old piano
More beautiful than the kisses of fresh dew drops
That spread across the grass in the morning.
Quieter and stiller
Than the lingering whisper of mist in the air at dawn.
I’ll find the little girl
The little girl I knew
Because no one can hear her laughter
Or feel her tears
Or see her fly
Than the little girl those years ago
The little girl I knew.