Post by Graveyard Goddess on Sept 8, 2007 17:40:49 GMT -5
It was clear to me from the looks of this young girl...That beauty did not simply run skin deep. (Her protruding bones cast shadows against dull skin) Yet people said she could take the juice of black currants...The sunset colored rain water and mix it with the red of her blood to create masterpieces.
She was an artist of beauty.
Not even the beautiful people could create such magnificent colors or such precise shapes. They couldn’t tell stories that came alive or sing songs that smelt nearly as sweet Their gardens were overgrown with snarls of grasses and prickly leaves that smelt very much of skunk. Her Garden grew flowers that smelt of jasmine and paradise. Of rainy nights, and sweet peppermint or cinnamon—Some even smelt like the tropical breezes of half moon bay.
It was like her very own Eden.
She was an artist of beauty.
Not even the beautiful people could create such magnificent colors or such precise shapes. They couldn’t tell stories that came alive or sing songs that smelt nearly as sweet Their gardens were overgrown with snarls of grasses and prickly leaves that smelt very much of skunk. Her Garden grew flowers that smelt of jasmine and paradise. Of rainy nights, and sweet peppermint or cinnamon—Some even smelt like the tropical breezes of half moon bay.
It was like her very own Eden.
