He sat at the foot of the bed, and she stood in front of him.
She lowered her dress to the ground.
He looked into her brown eyes and saw the light of the stars that twinkled on the mountain streams in the dark nights around his small village.
He looked at her smile, her sonrisa, and it was as if the sun had risen on him.
He looked at her brown skin, and it was as if the rich, plowed land itself was before him.
He looked at her body, and could not breathe for a moment, for it was as if all the beauty of the world had fallen upon him.
- Trevor Scott Barton, stories for a brown eyed girl, 2019
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