Her
Her hands are sculpted for holding, she walks with an Elysian grace.
Lavender wisps follow her always, and when I look at her face-
My hands are splattered with paint, and ache. But I reach out for an embrace.
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Her hands are sculpted for holding, she walks with an Elysian grace.
Lavender wisps follow her always, and when I look at her face-
My hands are splattered with paint, and ache. But I reach out for an embrace.
Holy moly the exquisite pain of reading this piece!! So so so well done. I have to agree with a previous comment, your choice of words is stunning. It cuts right to the heart. Beautiful work!
Very well done! I really like how skilled you are with your word choices and figurative language. Great short story!