When I arrived she was at the table waiting for me. Her dress was a gleaming betta blue, the sun reflecting off every surface. It appeared slick, but rough, showing the effects of gravity pulling it down. I imagined how magnificent it would have been without gravity. Her dress flowed every-which way, like a school of trout prowling for mayflies. At the bottom of it all was the majestic crashing of foaming water. It pooled forth to her blue, flowing shoes. I looked at her face-oh her face. Surrounded by gleaming perch yellow hair. It was too bright to look at with the naked eye. Her face-oh her face, it was as light as a minnows belly, but it soon turned a scarlet salmon. Once she was at her prime, she disappeared along with everything around her. Along with my heart. I wish the sun would never set over blue veil Falls.
It Never Seems to Last
March 28, 2018