TER General Board
She stood there like a silhouette that escaped the artists marble sculpture. Skin like molten pearls, hair like strands of silk disheaveled yet forming a perfect frame for the porcelean face. Eyes deep, dark and mysterious as a lost echo in a silent desert night. Proud, arrogant, fiery lips that could have been the birth of passion itself, shaped like cupids innocent bow yet could stand down the armies of Troy.
Still standing at the door, a voice as sweet as a sirens harp invited me in. A vulnerability born of unrestrained joy and temporary disbelief took over my consciousness. I entered with the heistation of a person who is about to enter a dream from a reality. She seemed like a beautiful mirage leading a thirsty warrior astray.
I reached out and lifted her hand with the honor of a knight lifting his shining sword before battle, and kissed it gently like a childs forehead, not for one moment losing the embrace of her captivating eyes.
Sit there and gaze at this beauty, like a child discovering the heavens for the first time, is all I wanted to do. Just stare quietly with the amazement and humility at this surreal painting that is its own gallery
There you got your review