Tuesday, April 24, 2007

 

04.24.06

I'm not doing a good job of protecting myself.

She's the only reason that I come and actually stay and her smile alone sloths the advancement of any conflicts that have been creeping their way into my mind lately.

We all need our muses.

I can only hope that I'm not tooling her for inspiration and that maybe something is growing.

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She demurely commands a complex simplicity, the most clever puzzle used against the male population.

She does not need the "finishing touches" that make-up provides-- she is a natural masterpiece, the kind of brilliance that shines effortlessly, the kind of image that you spend hours studying for intricacies and subtle hints at the meaning harbored within.

Her rondure body is her canvas, which she drapes in laid-back vestiture themes of earth-tone comforts that command your gaze and augment your personal longing, though simple they may be.

There's a softness within her decibles, like a blanket that enshrouds your ears, leading you to a peaceful nirvana that beckons you to drop all tremulous burdens and brisk along in a blithe manner with daydreams of smiles, sunshine and copacetic moments of jubilee.

Her playful grins echo an innocence lost long ago, taking you back to a time where the simplest things were the greatest things.

All the sketches and megapixels in the world could not capture her essence.

If she cannot fully encapsulate herself, how could another even begin to think they could do the same in any medium?

All she needs is that strong frame, to hold her and joyfully display her to the world.

No signature needed-- she wouldn't deem it necessary.

In fact, it'd be a crime for the viewer to know so readily the author of such a beautiful piece and the instigator behind its creation.

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I could only imagine how soft they could possibly be.

Mmm... white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

Docking out...
-Ryan : spittin' fire

Ryan posted this at 1:31 AM.