for her, there were his hands always moving making or fixing caressing or filling her with desire their lives a painting with his portions done with those fingers colors of passion aggravation and regret splattering, smearing constantly everything he left his life splattered all over her then he left his life
(“Splattered” – 6-9-2015)
Wow!!
I hope this was not you?
No it was not.
*sobs silently* ðŸ˜
I wish this wasn’t a true story.
Devastated…..
This is so good!!!!
I really appreciate it.
So true my friend!
This was just beautiful….it really touched me
Amazing
This is a very touching piece the last few lines really bring it home for me.
Amazing writing
How could I not have commented on this when I last read it? Supremely beautiful and sad!