I dream of her, my brown eyed daughter who was so unlike me. She was slight, dark, and brooding. I loved her for all things and for simply being. But, I also loved her when she no longer was.
In my dream she was broken, blue, buried. I awoke relieved that she had not been dead as she was in my dream - taken, tortured, murdered. Nevertheless, the accident had left her broken, blue, buried.
My dreams changed over the months, but she was always as she is in real life. Silent, foggy, out of reach and broken, blue, buried.
