She had eyes the colour of the Islay Sea. Her hair silk and russet. Against the paleness of her marked skin.There was strength in her that burned…. a quasar. When she spoke you listened. As if someone had whispered into your soul. With that it grasped your…

Pretty as can be, I feel sorry for her. While the physical seems in tact, her emotional state is out of whack. With each man, she bids farewell to another piece of herself. Never really touching life, just watching from a dusty shelf. Fed up…

In a world of black and white, she was the color. By not her vivid beauty, yet by the smile, through her suffer. Poised in her position, authentic in her vision. Never altered by her ego, faithful to all her words written.        …