She was the charcoal that all the artists loved to sketch with. A remanence of the fires that burned within her. No longer an ember, not quite in ashes. She had purpose. He loved her even after she could no longer fit in his hands. She lived in his work.
~ESR
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
Smudged Charcoal
PoetryShe was the charcoal that all the artists loved to sketch with. A remanence of the fires that burned within her. No longer an ember, not quite in ashes. She had purpose. He loved her even after she could no longer fit in his hands. She lived in his...
