The Second in F-series

She is everything. She embodies all. She emcompasses the gross and the subtle. She first enters as innocence. She exudes kindness and mildness, drawing out affection from her surroundings. When head is in her lap, she is the well of love. She hugs life in its entirety. Her visit lingers in the world caught up in the mundane. Her frail frame is pushed aside into a loud, cold corner. She shudders and lets out a long-lasting tear. The chemistry of purity is re-arranged into a different configuration. A configuration of resolve. She will not be brushed off so easily. The streets are bustling, busily occupied with bodies upon bodies. Bodies of perfection, of imperfection, of confusion, of anxiety, of fear, and of mad rush. She is in stride with the world now. Her shell is thickened. The eyebrows are drawn in. Her body assumes the shape of determination. She is innocence turned anger. She's flying through the vast space, wreaking havoc to that which encounters her. Madness and fire ensue. Out of control. Wild like an animal on a chain. She screams, she thrashes, hair floating in thick, steamy air. She is innocence turned untamed. But, frankly, she just wants to be seen.