The Sun and My Love
I awoke this morning and saw an occurrence quite extraordinary.
Ink was flowing from the space in-between my fingernails and skin.
The colors of the vibrant sunrise were clinging to my hands and released a poignant aura of magnificence that shone, bright and unwavering, into my eyes.
I walked, that day, concealing my ink-glazed hands inside gloves, fearful of losing my treasure to excitement and over-attention. I realized I could only remove my gloves in the presence of the sun. She had so lovingly given vivid life to my pale skin, and I wanted to show her, alone, the beauty my pale hands now exhibited.
But I could not find the sun alone.
I walked and walked and walked and always there were people stealing the undivided love of the sun from me. Frolicking children, giggling babies, and the parents that watched them from a distance.
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