Composed 1/1/16
Description: Prompt from writeworld. Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture.
His fingers spread like growing vines
And touched her skin so pale and sweet
He felt the blood pump through her veins
Gentle thuds in steady beats
From each seam, each pore heat wafted off
An aura of delectability
It swam up each thin, arching stem
A fire forming internally
It crawled up his arms
Hung in his chest
A strangely lovely burning wheeze
He breathed hot smoke
His insides glowed
Shade hung from a grin, sharp and pleased
She fell limp and her skin felt cold
Silence within her too-still form
The spines retreated as a breath was taken
And the red hot man went strolling home
Scraps of Paper 