Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Rosy


Alice had an akward beauty.
an air of fairy dust followed her steps..
Her wavey orange hair shook and rested
beside her pasty complexion.

When she walked up to Paul she wasn't sure what she was about to say.
Yes? Perhaps no.. or maybe she'd distract them with a long conversation about afternoons in Dublin.

No comments:

Post a Comment