She will warm my hand in a cool dark street as I grab hers in my swather pocket.
A texture of her is the thing to remind you of living.
To touch her is to touch a present moment.
My friend is a rock yet she always go explore things with another her.
She received news from winds, sunlight, and people that walk pass by.
Sometime she will be a bird, or sometime fish.
But most of the time she will let me hold her,
and read her a ‘little prince’ story.