The Lovely Dancer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

A man watches a beautiful dancer who isn't what she seems...

Ah… So perfect, so flawless, so whole. Her body twisted delicately in a way so elegant that tears began to well up in His eyes. As He gazed upon Her dancing in front of Him, He knew that He had to have Her. Her tanned, olive skin seemed soft as silk and smooth as satin. Her luscious lips were as crimson as a tropical hibiscus showering under a sweet summer rain. How He craved the taste of Her ambrosial lips. Her smiling eyes were the color of an angry sea after an end-all storm, and equally as rugged and wild. Her beauty was seraphic, angelic, and wholesome. Her liquid grey eyes stared back at Him, welcoming Him, begging Him to take Her. Her arms enveloped around Her curved body as gracefully as the necks of two elegantly poised swans, almost as if to say “take me wherever you want and never let me go.” Her fingers were splayed out as if to whisper that She wanted His fingers intertwined amongst Hers. He imagined the taste of her sweet kisses. They were sure to taste like golden honey, to be as fresh as a spring meadow, to be as warm as a summer evening. How He wished He could steal Her away to love Her. The legs on which She danced weren’t too thin, nor were they too thick. They were voluptuous in their fine curve, in their velvety luster. Her stomach, shaped and flat, seemed to cry out to have His hands run across it lightly. Her bosom wasn’t raunchy in its succulent magnificence. They weren’t seductive or dirty, but, rather, inviting. He only wanted to rest His head against Her chest and rest. Ah, how perfect She was… He longingly looked in absolute admiration at Her midnight-black hair that whisked around Her like a regal raven grasping Her face in the loving embrace He longed to give Her. Her lips were hovering in a light smirk that said “you’re the only one for me.” He reached out to touch Her, but drew His hand back. With a look of despair and ultimate sadness, hopelessness filled His face as He looked upon all Her beauty one last time, sighed deeply, walked out, and turned off the lights that illuminated His favorite painting.


Submitted: July 07, 2010

© Copyright 2021 Jack Frost. All rights reserved.

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