he always longed for a pair of arms and legs to caress with his young face
his hands were delicate, though bruised and burned from creation
he stared into his gallery full of art
his lovers
he invests himself and gives everything to his current piece
when he's done, he's done
on to the next
he grew tiresome of psychedelic colors and infinite prisms.
he always grew tiresome though
fickle as freckles, indecisive as the ocean, easily bored as a child
he spotted the white gleam of the marble almost instantly
and he wanted it.
the giant, luminescent block wasn't as heavy as it looked
he carried it home on his hip and held it like a mother bird
he already saw the beauty inside
it took very little effort to mold what he saw
or wanted to see
the marble was softer than it looked
each piece that was chiseled off began to reveal a woman
she had curves like an old country road
big eyes that were filled with magic and adoration
he created her in a goddess' image
the time he spent on shaping her hips, ******* thighs, and waist were endless
the last piece of her he caressed with his chisel was her lips
details
the cupids bow, fullness, shape, and color
when he kissed her, she came alive
the color of an overcast sky filled her eyes
and she smiled
his hands pulled her close and he enveloped her
he brought her to life
they made love on the floor of the gallery
in front of all the other art
and he was so unapologetic about it
bringing her ecstasy over and over that she had never felt
inspiration struck him again
or maybe he was just bored of marveling over the same sculpture
he assured her that he needed time away from his art
all of it
he put in her the corner
and began sculpting something new
right before her eyes
but again, he assured her that he wasn't sculpting anything
even though she could see the work in front of her
the sculptor just wanted a full gallery.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
he always longed for a pair of arms and legs to caress with his young face
his hands were delicate, though bruised and burned from creation
he stared into his gallery full of art
his lovers
he invests himself and gives everything to his current piece
when he's done, he's done
on to the next
he grew tiresome of psychedelic colors and infinite prisms.
he always grew tiresome though
fickle as freckles, indecisive as the ocean, easily bored as a child
he spotted the white gleam of the marble almost instantly
and he wanted it.
the giant, luminescent block wasn't as heavy as it looked
he carried it home on his hip and held it like a mother bird
he already saw the beauty inside
it took very little effort to mold what he saw
or wanted to see
the marble was softer than it looked
each piece that was chiseled off began to reveal a woman
she had curves like an old country road
big eyes that were filled with magic and adoration
he created her in a goddess' image
the time he spent on shaping her hips, ******* thighs, and waist were endless
the last piece of her he caressed with his chisel was her lips
details
the cupids bow, fullness, shape, and color
when he kissed her, she came alive
the color of an overcast sky filled her eyes
and she smiled
his hands pulled her close and he enveloped her
he brought her to life
they made love on the floor of the gallery
in front of all the other art
and he was so unapologetic about it
bringing her ecstasy over and over that she had never felt
inspiration struck him again
or maybe he was just bored of marveling over the same sculpture
he assured her that he needed time away from his art
all of it
he put in her the corner
and began sculpting something new
right before her eyes
but again, he assured her that he wasn't sculpting anything
even though she could see the work in front of her
the sculptor just wanted a full gallery.
