She is in her early twenties, a dark-haired, slim, pretty girl. The passion with which she utters her words accompanying them with graceful ballet steps traced with her long arms and fingers makes her look beautiful. The fresh beauty of the young dreamer that hadn't been spoiled yet by the bitteres of the quotidian.
He is in his 40's , simply but well dressed, sustaining the discussion with a composed tone and the ease distinguishing the one rused with the matters of punctilio. A professor, no doubt...
So, as she takes on some very touchy subjects, he is thinking at her amber hips, and as she throws her hands up to stress the gravity contained by a word like "God" or perhaps " truth", he imagines her as the little, graceful skylark aiming for the sun. And with a grave tone he utters:
"I see"
5 comments:
Hips is my favourite word at the moment. That is a cool piece of characterisation.
well, so shall I look for some poems about hips on your site?
You could try putting 'hips' into the search engine. They may be all in the book though. I will go try it now.
I really enjoyed this piece, Annamari. Perfect!
Brad: many thanks...
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