Portrait Of My Love

“Okay like, that” she said
Smiling, she kissed him. Then she rushed to the easle.

“Are you sure?” he asked awkwardly
“Yes, now please hold still,” she replied

She picked up a medium piece of charcoal and began a rough outline. It was hopeless, she smiled to herself. She could trace his fingers, but she could never convey how gentle and soothing his touch was. She could draw his eyes, but she could only try to capture their light, joy and depth. She could trace those lips. She smiled to herself, switching to thicker and darker charcoal to fill out the large areas. Those perfect lips that kissed her and whispered things her heart longed to hear. She couldn’t draw his laugh, his kindness, his strength or his sweetness. No none of that could be put on canvas. But she wanted to try. She wanted to see if maybe she could show him how amazing he was,even if she could only show him half of the things she saw when she looked at him. She couldn’t wait for him to see this portrait.

View this story's 2 comments.