He laughed, and turned to smile at his lover, his blue haired partner. His hair seemed to dance in the air, the golden tassel joining his amber eyes in their ethereal like quality under the dying sun, his eyelashes long and beautiful, his movements languid and his smile serene.
Albedo glanced away having the feeling that if he stared any longer he would become far too enraptured in those eyes and lose himself, as he so often did, in his fantasies. “Art rarely carries its inherent meaning, merely the fragments of what the viewer has chosen to feel. Beauty does not equate to meaning.”
Bookmarked by Lovelyraincoats
22 Jun 2021