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By spaceman Date: 2002 Apr 28 Comment on this Work [[2002.04.28.15.18.26039]] |
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She had chestnut hair, like silk it slipped through my fingers, never snagging spread acorss the pillow like a web to entrap and ensnare me. She had eyes the jade green color of bottle glass shot through with flecks of topaz. When she smiled her lips curved and unfurled a spot of heaven, and when those lips planted against mine I swear I heard the beat of angel's wings. And I describe her this way because it makes her unreal to me, a spectre rather than a memory. The simple reality of a tangled mass of brown hair that smelled of sunshine, and green eyes that seemed to surpress a laugh, a mouth plain, and sweet and mine makes her real and my loss that much more so. |