She was exquisite, a tiny thing with broken hands and a smile like a thunderstorm. He was sharp and dapper with diamond chip eyes and knives sewn into the lining of his coat. He took her shattered fingers and kissed each one. They firmed and smoothed, green vines wrapping themselves around the healing bone. Her eyes were morning glories and guillotines and butterflies.
EDIT (6/17/09): I just received word from Mercedes that this piece will also be appearing in the University of Maine's Binnacle, both in print and online. You can learn more about Binnacle here.