Reaching Your Hands

Trase stood there, watching the woman of his dreams between the field of flowers.

Her beauty was unparalleled; even the flowers seemed to pale in comparison as she stood among them. As he gazed upon her, words failed to capture her essence. When you look at her, the field of flowers fades into insignificance.

"You're the living work of your art, Mireille Marquez," he murmured.