There comes a moment when the delight of beholding her painted beauty softens into a tender ache—a quiet sorrow born of knowing her gaze, forever immortal in your gallery, will never meet ours beyond that silent, reverent distance.
A tragedy of sharp features feminine beauty in a black goth dress and makeup on a cliffside covered in snow, chilled pink skin, dark blue lips, playing a violin expelling wispy white steam
There comes a moment when the delight of beholding her painted beauty softens into a tender ache—a quiet sorrow born of knowing her gaze, forever immortal in your gallery, will never meet ours beyond that silent, reverent distance.