"Have you ever... have you ever beheld something so beautiful it hurt to look at it?"
"...Yes."
She turned to look at him. He was looking away, up at the sky. She swallowed before mustering up the strength to continue.
"How do you stand to look, then?"
"Because," he answered, at last looking down at her, "The longing you feel once you look away hurts so much more."
And though it hurt, she didn't dare look away.
YOU ARE READING
Poem and Prose Scraps (That Don't Quite Fit Elsewhere)
PoetryJust pieces that didn't quite fit in any of my other books that I don't feel are significant enough to require their own book. This will probably contain a lot of edgy stuff, so... brace yourself and enter at your own risk, I suppose.
