amanda.

her skin is pale. barely darker than the lined paper she is writing on. the pale

colour amplified by the black sweater draped over her shoulders

and the black lace outlining her bust. her pale face framed by soft

gold. her hair is free falling around her. stray stands fall on the black

backdrop or to the floor. it dances when the wind blows. her white hands

sweep the gold strands from her face. long nails polished in dark blue.

full, soft pink lips in almost a constant pout. only darkened by the

lubrication from her licking them or the odd application of a dark shaded

stick full, if void of colour. almond shaped eyes lined in black and

shadowed lightly, begging to be noticed. blue and grey stones staring out

from their white ponds. she sits there in her pale beauty. in her solace of

silence and solitude. her simple silence mistaken for snobbery. she is just

shy, afraid of what they will think. but she listens. hearing all their words

and whispers, their thoughts and secrets. she appears like a mystery or at

least misinterpreted. she is just simple beauty.