I drilled her image in my memory before she could slip away. Then I drew her. I painted her. I wrote her. I sang her. I spoke her. Yet no matter what I did, what efforts I put out, I could never capture even a speck of her beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Words
PoetryWords. Words. Words. Strung together to form a certain understandable, or perhaps not understandable, thought.
