you can’t blame the way he looks at her.
the way his eyes trail from the roots of her raven hair,
to the very strands,
down to the tip of her sculptured nose,
inching the corners of her pitch black eyes.
her lips were pink like watermelon,
and so were her cheeks when she sees him.
she was like art to him,
and he loved every bit of her.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
you can’t blame the way he looks at her.
the way his eyes trail from the roots of her raven hair,
to the very strands,
down to the tip of her sculptured nose,
inching the corners of her pitch black eyes.
her lips were pink like watermelon,
and so were her cheeks when she sees him.
she was like art to him,
and he loved every bit of her.
