what do you see?

and she painted...

starfish?

her hands tremble at the want of inspiration... she knows this is the moment of change where she is the painter... the bulbous molten form is morphing into various shapes (even a starfish in red sand) before it finds it's course... what will be?

vanity..?

she sits in the wee hours of the morning with the cold morning air burning her cheeks as she gathers the tattered edges of her world...

... as her hair frame her face and drop over her shoulders, a wistful expression in her eyes says she looks beautiful... yet in vain...!

the wait...

And the night sky tugs at her heart strings as she waits... wishing.... (hoping?)

Dar(k)ling...

A copy paste Pablo Neruda:

"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul."

wish..

she saw a shooting star and refrained from wishing on it... she was afraid the wish might come true...

puff of smoke

it was a cold dusty morning... she hadn't really slept... the smell of stale smoke reeking in her tousled open hair brought his thoughts rushing to her... the way his eyes look at her for a meaning deeper than she can ever offer... the way the white headed eagle soars over her gray aura... and the way she looked at the night sky and saw the stars slowly fade away....


PS: 'The Ramblings of My Soul' aka 'naughtyspark' is back in business!