V for veiled.

There was something beautiful about her in death.
All those emotions that were trying to fight onto her face had drained away, leaving her bare of any expectations that had often made her ugly. Lying in the meadow, on rotten monsoon leaves, her lips blue and eyes wide, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Her skin was still flushed with the remnants of life, her eyelids stretched, her eyes gazing at an an eternal emptiness, erasing the sorrows of a broken soul.
The body I had seen naked so often seemed to be made of stardust, she was the midnight sky, sheathed in clouds.
She was beautiful in death, quite unlike how she had been in life.
As I saw her lie in the grass, a neat hole where her heart used to be, the bright red blood congealed, a flower left in a swathe of snow; I wondered if life was a mere veil, a curtain that blurred, lifting which everyone became beautiful.

The art work is by Mira Nidyalkova.
In response to photo challenge #110
In response to the a to z challenge


2 thoughts on “V for veiled.

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