Drabble: Parting White

He is oak, and I’m mistletoe, winding his trunk, I travel his limbs, curling the extent of him. I am the spur joined to his heel; we are a worthy pair, well matched in a renewal of magic. I creep along his frame in advance of his vanishing act, a final parting, blinding white, parting white. A last shirt shrugged and fastened, the fleeting whiff of pressed clothes, wafting his leaving, trailing tome on the vibrating, exposed atmosphere of departure. I am at the window clothed in a veil of lace, wrapped in creamy white, parting white.

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October 29, 2013


Images credits are noted below each post. :-)

October 25, 2013


I like your portfolio especially the child on the beach recently accepted. David.

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Photo credits: Petrina Calabalic.