Sunlight on a cold morning
Feb 25, 2017 · 1 min read
Each person has their own way of defining her, as if that one trait was not only what made her stand out, but also the one that mattered the most. She told me she’s learning to be fine with these, but let herself be limited by them. She’s stripping herself off of everything that’s been grounding her, peeling off layer by layer until she’s not just naked but also formless. She’s unzipping her body and letting her soul take the shape of air before it gains a shape again, but this time it will be different. This time the names, the layers and definitions aren’t limiting anymore. There she goes, my beautiful world, I think to myself, seeing her with my eyes closed.
