That’s not to say that she might not be teasing, inviting me in. Maybe she’s a lost soul trapped in this cloak of formality, the rose her only release from her prison and its connection to me as a glue between us, is a way to show me that I need to take the next step.
But… yeah, I’m cynical.
Thankfully, you’re right. I’m a hopeful romantic but never quite a hopeless romantic, yet I’m a hopeless skeptic because I always hold out hope.
I can be neither the Amazing Randi nor believe in One True Love. Always vascillating inbetween, a toe in both worlds.
I want the picture to speak to me, but it doesn’t. I know the artist was trying to remove himself from it but i can’t help BUT see the artist there, watching her watching him as he paints, and even as he steps aside for us all to see, all I see is the back of his head, and I’m wondering what *he’s* thinking.