The boy walks around the art museum. Each time he cycles around he ends up in the same spot.
He stands in front of a statue of a woman. She's a beautiful woman. No other words describe her. She wears a white sundress and she's barefoot. Her long hair pulled up in a high side ponytail. It's positioned as if it's flowing in the wind. Same for her dress. Her eyes a dazzling green. Grass beneath her feet. Her skin a pale white. Her hands reaching out.
The boy can't help but stare at her hands. Delicate hands that look soft. She naturally looks soft. Her curves stand out. Long legs showing. Thighs plump and more than a handful around. Breasts covered but still noticeable. Baby fat obvious on her. Eyes holding a look of longing. A longing for affection.
"You're just lonely huh?"
The boy gives her a sad smile. He's lonely too. Broken relationship after broken relationship does that to a person. He finally walks away from his favorite art piece. The feeling of being lonely a bit better.
As he walks away green eyes watch him. Lips unable to curve into a smile. Tears unable to fall.
"I'm happy to be your art."
YOU ARE READING
Alone
Siêu nhiênA cycle. It repeats. Over and over. My blood. Or his blood. Never reunited. And yet I still hope he'll recognize me, like a fool.
