Sister

Kitty is beautiful. She makes mistakes, but she loves me more than I can imagine.

Her skin is pale beige, with a pink flush. Her eyes are greeney blue, with a brown tinge around the pupil. Her hair bounces around her face like a halo. Her lips are pink, and thin. Her teeth slant. Her features aren't perfect. But together they are.

Her stomach is full, but the perfect shape. Cuddley, but flat. 

Her passion is for teaching, and spreading love and morals like an unstopable forest fire. But it does not destroy, it shapes.

She is a child, and a teenager, and so mature as well. She cries for other people, she is the most compassionate person I've ever known. She has nightmares about the holocaust, about protecting me, and often wakes up crying. But she tries not to make a sound. If I heard her, I'd nurse her back to sleep. It's alright, I'd say, the holocaust is over, my love. But she knows as much horror sneaks around the world as did then. She wants to stop the hatred, train it, keep it in an unopened jar, never let it out, just watch it. Know it's safely locked away

She loves being a girl. She loves that boys need girl just as girls need boys. She likes to tease, and she isn't quick to love. But she is quick to trust. I don't know if this is for the better, or for the worst.

She a musician, a teacher, and my best friend.

She's my sister.

The End

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