Assamese has a fair and cherub face. Assamese has a deep heart made of paper and sealing wax. The wax from her heart leaks a dark crimson when she cries. Lips painted, lips true color unknown now to even Assamese her self. In beams of light Assamese is holey. Dark never falls but the fear in her crawls. A porcelain doll breaks her skull. A paper cup singing to its crimson wax filling up so effortlessly. Immersed inside her sepulcher surrounding prayers faint as secret. You cant always get what you want.