Aracely

The sunlight kissed her cheekbones which shone golden like lemon blossoms in early spring, and then it playfully glided down in a gentle avalanche onto the sultry curves of her neck. She was enrobed in swathes of white silk which seemed to rejoice and dance in the summer wind, her hair ebbing and flowing sleepily in all directions, as if under water.

          “Aracely,” Herendin stared in utter disbelief into her stunning blue eyes, held her hands softly in his and began to cry. He pulled her into him and she felt so warm. Her fragrant scent clung to him, filled his soul with unimaginable love and he ran his trembling fingers through her hair and kissed her on the lips and face while weeping uncontrollably.

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