Shell
I have never seen needles
Small enough to knit
Those cashmere stitches,
Seed tiny and pale
Pink as newborn skin
Untouched by sunlight,
A shade deeper,
Nonetheless,
Than your own skin,
Which has grown so thin
That blue shows through
Between the folds.
Thistle fluff, defiant curls
Whiter than the pearls
That pull your ears to creases,
Casts a shadow of remembered springs
Across your eyelids
And your lips,
Like abalone shell,
More lovely
When the life inside is gone.
Note: This falls short of the hundred word minimum. I'm sorry about that. I stopped when it did. I wanted you to read it, though, even if you couldn't consider it for your challenge, because your challenge inspired it. It made me consider someone deeply in a setting where I wouldn't ordinarily have done that. Thank you. :)