Lush.

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If the world’s at large, why should I remain?

If seas are bottomless, and skies go on forever, and flight tickets get cheaper by the day as our beings continue to be forever undermined by past circumstances, wouldn’t it only be proper to motor on forth instead of plotting on unfulfilled desires that will fill up in our lives if they go ignored?

            —

Viola, the name itself ringing with the presence of its sheer grace, its delicacy tinkling like light music. I only wanted to be as soft and delicate as Viola, with her narrow long limbs perfumed by the languor of her being. She spoke for all hazy desires, with her heavy-browed beauty and quiet wisdom, her mouth red in the abyss of the night.

What was my calloused self in comparison? I, a glowing beacon in a still, empty room yet whose light is too dim in the presence of wakeful company. The person with two bumbling left feet and a penchant for pleasures a little too straightforward, plagued by scoliosis and manic depression. I had no attention to detail, I was not a diamond in the buff.

In all my clumsiness, I wished a person like you could see the beauty contained in a person like me, even if all you could see, all that I could see, was Viola.

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