She crushes the tomato in her hand. Juice runs through her fingers, all the way down her elbow, dripping on the floor. The tomato seeds stick to her fingers and when she wipes her hand on her chest, they stick to her body. My baby girl. I hold her and kiss her and she smells just like a tomato.
Her face and hands are sticky and delicious. She grabs my glasses and insists on putting them back on my face herself. If I dare take them away from her, she'll break them. She twists them terribly, threatening me. I give her an angry look and she grins, which makes me smile. My lioness.
I keep looking at her, then at the movie, then back at her. She is so alive, so whole and curious and active and full of life, and not at all interested in the screen. She feeds me her tomato.
Her face and hands are sticky and delicious. She grabs my glasses and insists on putting them back on my face herself. If I dare take them away from her, she'll break them. She twists them terribly, threatening me. I give her an angry look and she grins, which makes me smile. My lioness.
I keep looking at her, then at the movie, then back at her. She is so alive, so whole and curious and active and full of life, and not at all interested in the screen. She feeds me her tomato.
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