A smile is situational
She felt the security the red brim supplied her with Under her hat her whole reality seemed safe Here she was left alone Here the troops of her soul could conquer her face in the shadow of the bright sun beams, Allowing her grimace to shimmer through, Hidden from the gaze of the objective world. Smoke did the same for her which was her guilty pleasure and her secret behind always keeping a joint between her lips, The portal to her insides Where her inner organs are being cradled like a meadow in the wind The color of her liver matching the dark purple red of her hat. The rose tone of her lips giving no insight into the darkness that is now left empty as the soldiers have set out to use the shadow in her face to rise to the surface of their shell Like a snail coming out of her delicate house, the gooey mass extended her sensors to get in touch with the outside world, her tongue licked her small tight mouth. She owed it to her small statue that the hat could allow the fine features of her face to be guarded from the light. She could disappear this way, Out of this world into another, Of which she called herself a part time member and when one of her fellow inhabitants do this world would walk by her fence, that seamed her savage garden, in the morning, she would raise her head and the sun in her face would lay her face bear. Naked in the sunlight one could see the most beautiful smile of a war hero's face. Set in stone like a marble sculpture.