in a way

I had known this woman well, a dozen years ago, a blossom in the springtime of my life. If I think back on those days, my thoughts swim around Allison’s kind face, her pretty blue eyes, her soft golden hair, creamy smooth shoulders, slender, sigh, arms. And after all these years, Allison looked nearly the same; a little harder, perhaps, faint wrinkles tickling the corners of her eyes, a little less glimmer and bounce in her hair, a few pounds filling out her womanly curves. Lovelier, in a way, than the day we first met.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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