She was beautiful, like how the sky kissed the sea;
and how the sea embraced the sand.

She was beautiful like all the other things that were meant to be.

She was beautiful; perfectly imperfect.
Like the calluses on your fingers and the scratches on your skin.
They hurt a little, but somehow they felt different.
And different was good.

She was beautiful as she closed her eyes for the last time..
And there was I, slowly becoming a memory to such wonderful piece of creation.

Even her death was beautiful. Even her coldness was lovely.



*****
A/N:
I'm on semi-hiatus now but I can't fight the urge to write.
I miss writing. I miss this. I miss you my dear readers.
Hoping to get back on track real soon.