She washed her hair today for me to shoot some film. The summer sun still seeks release, it casts and coruscates in slick salute, light brown with just a tease of red caprice.
The camera captured her just three months shy of twenty-one. A sleeveless pure white dress, cut low, but elegant, a glimpse of thigh the breeze exposes for her to impress.
She sits upon a swing seat holding dyed green chains the colour of the shading tree, her lips a-smile, apart, blue eyes are wide as she looks straight, right through the lens at me.
Defences I have none, so magicked in her trance. Six months ago she tamed and held me with her glance.
You must be logged in to post a comment.