The Painter Guy…
June 25, 2007
He touched her face, gently, trying to read all the lines. All the pain that she had had to go through all these years. He took his time, surveying every nook of her body, slowly gently, trying not to upset any joy… any worry that might be nestled in it. Shoulders, elbows, ankles, thighs, breasts… His hands traverse her expanse and stop at her lips.
He had everything he needed to paint her on his canvas now. He left a small sigh in the tangled mess that was her hair and shoved his canvas into the trash can. He spilled his colors and made her walk in them, caressing the rainbowed footsteps as she made her way into the gloom of his heart.
He made her stop then and slowly, with fine strokes, he began to daub her with darkness. He worked patiently, worked hard.
When he was through… she no longer existed… And all that was left was a shade blacker than black…
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