You were a perfect picture;
a creature of sublime composition.
You were thin, supple gossamer skin,
sculpted with skilled hands.
Oh, someone knew what they were doing
when they made you.
Inset with eyes like small oceans,
deep and green and terrible,
shades of kindness brushed in generously
and a smile that truly meant joy;
the shape of happiness.
We exist in a world made less beautiful,
by the zombie that ate your face.
HG – 2016