she was not obsessed with him, but she was curious since she noticed him painting her, that girl with fierce black eyes, flowery hair, and a grapy grin.
she just looked angelic.
she wanted to know her, and him. who were she, and he?
she had always seen him painting her, or looking at the reflection of those celestial bodies.
she wondered, why.
YOU ARE READING
speckles of sky.
Poetryi await his lingering gaze on me, to be the shining liquid he gape everyday.
