Moons and Roses
I remember the first time our eyes caught each others. I was sitting at a bar, not paying attention at all to the majesty before me. Not in till I wondered what such a beautiful woman was doing in a piss smelling bar. Red roses crawled up her right arm like tree roots, permanently staining her skin. The left one plain and innocent from the needles touch. She wore a stringed red tank top, which had lace trim on the top and bottom ends. Long wavy onyx hair cover her pale shoulders She was on the...