Saturday, November 12, 2011 by B.H.
You have the same peachy face after all this time, only a bit wrinkly now. You still drink in every lifelike nonsense no matter how irrelevant. I still see the tender folly and bright violet wandflowers adorned with myriad love in your tawny-brown eyes. The same somber expressions but surprisingly cheery when you feel like it, strangely mellow on some days - especially on rainy days, glowering when you read or write, deep in thought when you listen to your favorite songs and endlessly vacant when you walk. You have subtly deepened in a manner that I have too. And it's cute how you don't try to hide your teeth anymore when you laugh. Only your blackish-brown hair has changed in color, they seem faintly light and weak. Your dresses are still more stylish than you are but not a lot of people know about that. And humor, still hard to get but then, I have the same problem too. You're unearthly, lost in your own literary world, I love the songs that you sing in your enchantingly wild voice as you play the uke. And how you smell the old, frayed pages of the books before you read them. You're you and I live in a beautiful world.


:-Dee said...

Wow.. this is beautiful!!! Loved it... :)

B.H. said...

I am glad. :)

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