Saturday's Storyteller: "Moonlight grazed her cheek as she looked up at me."
by Belinda Roddie Moonlight grazed her cheek as she looked up at me. She was so small compared to everyone else I had known. She was not delicate, nor meek, no. But she was small, her head only reaching my navel as her hands rested naturally against my hips. "You're beautiful," she whispered to me. I smiled. "You're not the first to tell me that." Kiss led to kiss as we sat by the window, the night stars peppering our hair with faint, scattered light. When the morning finally arrived, I felt her thin frame curl perfectly against mine. We were a sculptor's dream against the sheets, white marble and black stone. The keys of a piano. A marvelous blend of color, shape, and form. This week's prompt was provided by Arden Kilzer.