Monochromic dust settles upon eyelids and the image that is being conjured up from the story being told, on a walk for the first time with a girl that love is beginning to form for because she teases with a smile and wears shoes that match so well and other reasons which can’t be pinpointed due to her close presence, the hot cloudless sky and the developing image that, like so often when overwhelmed is colorless, as she says:
“My kiss, seconds after his last breath lying in the front lawn, left a mark on his forehead from my lipstick.” (sb)
