He was right.
We were walking somewhere in the afternoon, my lips blazing against winter-pale skin, and I was already calculating my escape. It was the beginning of the end.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
THE ARMOR OF RED LIPSTICK
One night, he accused me of wearing red lipstick so I wouldn't have to kiss him.
He was right.
We were walking somewhere in the afternoon, my lips blazing against winter-pale skin, and I was already calculating my escape. It was the beginning of the end.
He was right.
We were walking somewhere in the afternoon, my lips blazing against winter-pale skin, and I was already calculating my escape. It was the beginning of the end.
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