Krystle Vermes

Her Beautiful Mind

She slipped on her little black dress and felt herself slowly begin to fall apart. He touched her shoulder, and she knew it was the last time the would see each other. She could still feel their heat still radiating off of the bedsheets. This was love, she thought. Warm, inviting, and forever fleeting…

Distinguished Writer of the ArtAscent Black call for entry. To see the full body of work, grab a copy of the ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal Black issue.
www.krystlevermes.com

Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments