It peeked out from behind her ear from time to time. More often in the summer when the the wet air would encourage even the most modest or cold blooded to throw cultural expectations to the wind.
Some asked. Others stared. Few really knew or understood.
It was the best of her - lost. She had felt the pain in her soul and needed an outward sign. A physical manifestation.
It was a feather. Light and breathable with the ability to carry multitudes. Unique and scientific. Art and structure. Everything.
There were days she forgot. It has been a long time after all, but a love like that never really leaves you.
It pierces your soul with the ink of unspoken words.
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