Two Eyes Cenote grey dawn light

No one had watched her before —

She found the water of his gaze was like being plunged into winter rivers. Did it help or harm her?

There were no words to this song, not even much of a melody in truth. It was a song of something old and primal that raised up in her voice in a series of howls.

Anguish and strength. Grief and beauty — the kind held in the eye of the beholder.

Even if she could not be allowed into paradise, perhaps they might hear her begging all the same.

Had anyone ever taken pity on the beggar?