¬She’s so beautiful.
Her face is so perfect, so exquisite – so fresh and youthful. I could stay here, holding her in my arms forever, watching, mesmerized as the flicker of the candlelight sends shadows dancing playfully across her face. Watching, as they stroke the gentle slope of her jaw, caressing her perfectly pointed chin. Moving slowly up to her softly parted lips, kissing her small, round cheekbones. Her eyes, so pure and blue, are now closed, and she looks so peaceful as the shadows of her eyelashes bob back and forth over her dainty little nose.
I notice a few strands of blonde, matted and bloody, stuck to her cheek, and carefully stroke them back behind her ear. Her hair is so long and luscious, it seems almost a shame to cut it. I grab a clump of it, and bring it up to my nose, taking in the smell.
I sit and stare at it a while, then reach for my scissors.
Small and delicate, I polish the carved ivory pictures and symbols of flowers and plants, and