Her face was in a bed of hair,
Like flowers in a plot --
Her hand was whiter than the sperm
That feeds the sacred light.
Her tongue more tender than the tune
That totters in the leaves --
Who hears may be incredulous,
Like flowers in a plot --
Her hand was whiter than the sperm
That feeds the sacred light.
Her tongue more tender than the tune
That totters in the leaves --
Who hears may be incredulous,
Who witnesses, believes.
Emily Dickinson
Incredible hair by Marisol Suarez
photograph by Katrin Backes
