theniftyfifties:

Model wearing a gown by Dior, 1956.

My ideal Easter outfit. Judge me if you must.

Compositions.

(Blank) me.

Breathe me.
Take in my air. Let me fill your lungs.

See me.
Let visions of me blind you from all shades of gray that seek to cover our color.

Hear me.
My laughter will be what you listen for and mute anything that sounds remotely like doubt.

Talk me…
to sleep. Your words will serve as a lullaby and I’ll dream of us.

Feel me.
That phantom touch is my hand. The hand that waved goodbye but never lifted high enough to say hello again.