Story of a Strang-(h)er
With each posture she settled in each final print. She yearned for more than the reflection of her, depicted by the results of snapshots. She seeked for something truly genuine. She sought the touch of man, that would slowly trace and tickle her inner spirit from top to bottom. She longed for the gaze of a man to be stared upon, not for her chest but for the exquisite eyes she possessed and the possibilities of what her individuality may be able to express. She desired to be pierced and thrusted romantically by the articulation spoken by a man. She wanted her intellect and heart to be stolen and clenched by a man. She craved to be held by the arms of a man. Arms that would help carry her through hardships. Arms that would barricade her from negativity. Arms that would help strike her troubles. Arms that would construct the passion she ached for. Arms that would help keep her warm during the coldest of nights. Arms that she can be one with. Arms that one day she can be held in for the reasons she wanted. And as each eye-catching man passes her by, her quest continues.
