Saturday, December 31, 2011

Painting Stories #14

What I got:

Its fingertips rest on her forehead, leaving a thin imprint and the memories emerge. Greedy for her thoughts, for the recall of moments that are the crux of the girl, It noshes and tears through childhood- smiling at the sound of a leg breaking, at the ache of baby teeth loosening- then invading her adolescence- the piercing sting of rejection, of awkwardness, of a body plunging onward with curves and swells into womanhood.