Anxious Poets Society
From the first glance I could tell she’d been kissed by the sun. Her complexion was ruddy as the Colorado, copper and zinc mixed into her cool waters. Her eyes were deep blue pools of infinite depth, an iridescent, shimmering expanse; I couldn’t look into them for long, had to come up for air. But she could look into mine. Her hair was tied back, and though it was still it seemed to flow like the wind, a brown current that rose and fell without end. She is a radiant sunbeam, and she stood so close I could almost touch her, but I didn’t dare. Her warmth, her glow, she has finally claimed.
From the first glance I could tell he’d been kissed by the sun.
His complexion was tanned, an Italian roast swirling in the late Tuscan sun. His eyes were a deep brown cavern flecked with glittering green gemstones; I stared into them, eager to plumb the cavernous depths. But he couldn’t look into mine. His hair was dark and slightly overlong, careless, an afterthought, as though the wind had long since claimed it as its own. He is a smoldering coal, and he stood so close I could almost touch him, but I didn’t dare. His heat, under the surface, he is just starting to grasp.
Jordan Ray is a person currently residing in Lansing, Michigan, who writes things sometimes, especially when he is sad or scared or stressed.
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