side glance

Unforgiven

Abashed at her orange indignity, I followed her. I wanted to ask, "What mark do they know you by? Ownership, fertility, month-to-slaughter?" She kept her gaze low and away, seemingly disinterested. I took a step closer. I longed to know, to declare my heart-held esteem, to set us free. She barely turned and, with innate poise and dignity, side-glance dismissed me.