Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Untitled love

He composed her love as a musician would sing the sweetest lullaby;
Weaving the most delicate strands of silk into a web waiting in the shadows to ensnare her innocent heart.
His fingers, strong and sure twitch a thread here and there to bring her love ever closer;
The masterpiece nearly completed;
The song rising to a crescendo, with the angels voices versing love never lost.
Her spirit frolicking in the clouds has become enraptured by his steady gaze as her slight form is entangled in his tight embrace.
Forever his;
Forever her's; 
Wander together, she and him in a painting of beauty and sorrow;
They revel in each-others imperfections, the way the unintended mistake the painter created has turned to elegance.   

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