Admiration To often be a name upon their lips not only when there’s nothing else to share and should they envy things she can’t control, there's nothing that would gratify her more. The tips of her long fingers painted red, she often thinks to when her mother said, Red tells them you are worth their precious thoughts, if blue, you know, they might think you a bore. Her wrists hang bare and meagre as she walks, so desperately begging to be adorned with jewels another bought solely because he hoped she might return his fond survey. She wants to give expecting no return and stare selflessly in adoration, but she accepts for her that just won’t do yet wishes she would think in the right way. It's admiration that she longs for now, as plain and pure content comes madly forth in moments when she feels eyes fixed on her,
9
