Not her level, she thought;
She said: “Not to my level.”
What level?
She blinked. She looked deep at him.
She did not talk; yet there were sounds;
Volume of sound seemed to be zero.
She whispered: “My level is different.”
Her lips did not move.
Eyes spoke the outspoken:
“I am unique. I am different.”
I could sense that; I could read that;
Everyone isn’t not?
She said: “No. Most of them are pigs.
I am no pig. I am the quality.”
No comments:
Post a Comment