JeMee
She was not beautiful. But she looked like art. Because art is supposed to make you feel something. I feel my world is painted in the prettiest picture with the magic of my colors. I fall in love far too easily but not far too often. My hair was black, like magic luster, onyx pearls, spread amongst charcoal at midnight, the kind of dark you get lost in, hungry for the light, more decadent than the finest dark chocolate, cherry cordial filled, sweet. Her whole self was inviting. Her face, her skin, even her smell has magic on it. Like she was someone from outer space.
About JeMee
She was not beautiful. But she looked like art. Because art is supposed to make you feel something. I feel my world is painted in the prettiest picture with the magic of my colors. I fall in love far too easily but not far too often. My hair was black, like magic luster, onyx pearls, spread amongst charcoal at midnight, the kind of dark you get ...Read more