It's Still Life

Seven

Seven: prime, indivisible, stubbornly herself.

She is a parenthesis of grace, a question mark of sunlight — “Can you do this?” she asks as she unfolds into a perfect split on the kitchen tiles, a compass toward joy and impossibility.

Her hair is a midnight river streaked with ribbons — not just purple, but twilight’s crown-purple, the colour that holds back the dark.

She is mermaid, fin kicking foam; dancer, pirouetting to music only she hears; rider of horses painted with constellations, manes of wind, leaping just high enough for earth to let go.

Bright, smart, clever — spark of hidden passages, castles built from cushions, and the choice of which story should live inside.

She is seven — Luisa, the daughter of my son, a universe.

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Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story, including the word “choice”.   Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.