The outline to her risqué shape, conjures up in Alessio’s mind the image of lust, dangling on the edge of canyon cliffs. As though he were the coyote to find the scrap of flesh, unknowing of the trap to bring him high. He would fall to bleed in her, a love that reaches miles across deserted straights. Though, the man who resides in him, may remain strict until the point of arrival.
Discipline steers him to slow his steps, leaving eyes to find him dead. Alive, though still awakened to the sight of beauty. What manifold layers of it to satiate him, the little woman before him, who is no sooner to quit her pace than any shepherd with his flock.
There is not much detail to be described, try as we might from behind the woman where Alessio moves his feet. A faint hint of what is noticed to be blush, can be see of her when she twists her head to the right upon taking to her curious notions. Another hint, of lashes made of mahogany color, lists itself as among the beauty to belong to women of this degree. Wealth is deep in her pledges to this modern world. Contemporary atmosphere has sentenced itself to her state, wild as it still may be.
Let us leave the graces of Paris to their small enclosures, of where protection comes from the surrounding rustic and cemented ceilings. They have feet where they can be, among hands that can care for what must. Life, too delicate to be raised, without the genuine touch of someone, should remain at its base.
This woman who has caught the attention of our Alessio, motions away from him all- the-more. It is enough for his face to give up the chase of something better than his paranoia.
He leaves love to scout out a wonderment in his heart.