I can not vote here, as the woman who will always have my heart is the culmination of everything above and multitudes of unmentioned things that mean as much if not more. She is total paradise, the utopian consummation of everything my senses, heart, and soul could ever have dreamed up in a thousand lifetimes.
It would shame both her and myself to try to place any one part of her above any other part, as she is not the individual tally or point but the sum of it all- the equation that has secured my soul for all of time.
BarrenPneuma: I can not vote here, as the woman who will always have my heart is the culmination of everything above and multitudes of unmentioned things that mean as much if not more. She is total paradise, the utopian consummation of everything my senses, heart, and soul could ever have dreamed up in a thousand lifetimes.
It would shame both her and myself to try to place any one part of her above any other part, as she is not the individual tally or point but the sum of it all- the equation that has secured my soul for all of time.
you look at whole rather than parts but some people look at parts rather than whole
Just copy the whole line, paste it in the address field of your browser, and you’ll see it.
I can watch those lips forever, and those two locks of hair hanging in front of one eye, or the little triangular valley between the tip of her nose and her upper lip, or the intense, beautiful eyes, the fine line running down on the side, from her forehead, down along the side of her face, to her chin, that shoulder is probably the one most beautiful thing. It’s like a miniature landscape. A silhouette, a horizon you almost expect a sun will rise above.
I can watch them all at once, just find beauty in one of them and feel that it’s something beautiful to see.
Take one simple tear. Watching it pool delicately in the corner of her delightful sapphire orb, building like an ebb until it lunges out over her lashes like the pray from a waterfall in slow motion. It hangs precariously for a fraction of a second and drops into open space before shattering on her creamy cheek a thousand eons away. The fractions of liquid magnification create maps of the stars on her face enhancing the infinitesimal hues of her perfect skin, until they begin to be affected by gravity and gain their release from friction. As if through knowing or purpose they begin to move together gathering the droplets into a lustrous bead that once again begins its graceful decent. Leaving a glowing sheen as it washes down her face following curves so ephemeral highlighting the simplicities it encounters in greater detail than the finest art in the Lou-vre, or any private collection in existence. Wistfully it rises and falls through the contours that shade each chromatic change in her skin as it seeks to trace the most delicate lines that define her illustrious glory. Slowing as it nears the rise of her polished lips it deepens the faintest natural pink as it crests and resides for an instance or an eternity upon this dreamy landscape. The cushion of her exquisite pink lips suspending the diamond sphere, then it slides down into the heat of her pursed jeweled mouth, desperate for a lifetime in the comfort and security invoked by their promise. A shudder so slight from a smile that bursts forth like a fast forwarding of the most lush garden urges it onward and gently pries it loose from its perch to follow the traceries of yet another perfect lip, the only match in a lifetime of lifetimes to the one it crossed mere moments ago. Downward and inward back to the feathery softness of her chin, again following paths defined in the heavens it reaches the culmination of its reason d’être. Time slows to a near halt as the globe of light and sweetest salt begins extending outward beyond her being. As if knowing that it’s end is near it clings vainly against the assured. Stretching and deforming its celestial sphere into a elongation of its original form until only the slimmest portion yet has any handhold upon her purity. The saddest moment occurs as it is released to fall unseen and be forgotten. The only memory it leaves behind is the map of its journey, which in my heart and mind I could trace unerringly the rest of my days. I could easily write a book about each and every square inch of her physical body and reams upon reams to Shame the fabled collection of Alexandria about the intangibles she possesses to shame the myriad stars above. Each tome would assuredly be written in my soul and have the same favour and grace in my heart until the end of time.
BarrenPneuma: I can not vote here, as the woman who will always have my heart is the culmination of everything above and multitudes of unmentioned things that mean as much if not more. She is total paradise, the utopian consummation of everything my senses, heart, and soul could ever have dreamed up in a thousand lifetimes.
It would shame both her and myself to try to place any one part of her above any other part, as she is not the individual tally or point but the sum of it all- the equation that has secured my soul for all of time.
Just copy the whole line, paste it in the address field of your browser, and you’ll see it.
I can watch those lips forever, and those two locks of hair hanging in front of one eye, or the little triangular valley between the tip of her nose and her upper lip, or the intense, beautiful eyes, the fine line running down on the side, from her forehead, down along the side of her face, to her chin, that shoulder is probably the one most beautiful thing. It’s like a miniature landscape. A silhouette, a horizon you almost expect a sun will rise above.
I can watch them all at once, just find beauty in one of them and feel that it’s something beautiful to see.
How could I chose ONE, man!?
Sorry, I know this is a men's only thread, but I had to butt in and say that you have an incredible way of kneading and moulding the English language in such a way as to make a descriptive paragraph a work of art....Geez! Beautiful
BarrenPneuma: Take one simple tear. Watching it pool delicately in the corner of her delightful sapphire orb, building like an ebb until it lunges out over her lashes like the pray from a waterfall in slow motion. It hangs precariously for a fraction of a second and drops into open space before shattering on her creamy cheek a thousand eons away. The fractions of liquid magnification create maps of the stars on her face enhancing the infinitesimal hues of her perfect skin, until they begin to be affected by gravity and gain their release from friction. As if through knowing or purpose they begin to move together gathering the droplets into a lustrous bead that once again begins its graceful decent. Leaving a glowing sheen as it washes down her face following curves so ephemeral highlighting the simplicities it encounters in greater detail than the finest art in the Lou-vre, or any private collection in existence. Wistfully it rises and falls through the contours that shade each chromatic change in her skin as it seeks to trace the most delicate lines that define her illustrious glory. Slowing as it nears the rise of her polished lips it deepens the faintest natural pink as it crests and resides for an instance or an eternity upon this dreamy landscape. The cushion of her exquisite pink lips suspending the diamond sphere, then it slides down into the heat of her pursed jeweled mouth, desperate for a lifetime in the comfort and security invoked by their promise. A shudder so slight from a smile that bursts forth like a fast forwarding of the most lush garden urges it onward and gently pries it loose from its perch to follow the traceries of yet another perfect lip, the only match in a lifetime of lifetimes to the one it crossed mere moments ago. Downward and inward back to the feathery softness of her chin, again following paths defined in the heavens it reaches the culmination of its reason d’être. Time slows to a near halt as the globe of light and sweetest salt begins extending outward beyond her being. As if knowing that it’s end is near it clings vainly against the assured. Stretching and deforming its celestial sphere into a elongation of its original form until only the slimmest portion yet has any handhold upon her purity. The saddest moment occurs as it is released to fall unseen and be forgotten. The only memory it leaves behind is the map of its journey, which in my heart and mind I could trace unerringly the rest of my days. I could easily write a book about each and every square inch of her physical body and reams upon reams to Shame the fabled collection of Alexandria about the intangibles she possesses to shame the myriad stars above. Each tome would assuredly be written in my soul and have the same favour and grace in my heart until the end of time.
Report threads that break rules, are offensive, or contain fighting. Staff may not be aware of the forum abuse, and cannot do anything about it unless you tell us about it. click to report forum abuse »
If one of the comments is offensive, please report the comment instead (there is a link in each comment to report it).