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Burgundy

In ruby-hued satin, she pirouettes alone, Her form a silhouette against the tone Of evening's blush, where shadows softly play, Amidst the burgundy that wraps her frame at bay. With every step, the fabric billows wide, A skirt of old-money elegance inside, Yet her bare skin glistens like polished stone, Ethereal, untainted, utterly her own. Her arms, entwined, create a pose of grace, A Botticelli vision in a modern space, As if the nymphs of ancient lore had come, To dance and twirl, unbound by mortal thumb. Time stands still in this suspended scene, Where art and life entwine, a sanguine dream, Of freedom's fleeting nature and its hold, On hearts that beat within a living mold. She is a vision born of color, light, And the intoxicating thrill of unbridled might, A fleeting moment preserved in embered thought, Of a woman bold, in radiance untaught.
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Bare Yarnie and Her Friend

Bare Yarnie, the girl with sun-kissed blonde hair and a penchant for getting naked with yarn, was lounging in her bedroom surrounded by skeins and needles. Her friend, a fellow yarn enthusiast, had just made a joke about "sado-yarnicism" which had them both laughing uproariously.





Despite their shared twisted sense of humour, they were both gentle souls, drawn to the softness and warmth of yarn. They reveled in the act of creating something beautiful and functional out of mere strands of wool.


Garden Yarnie

As she bites off a piece of yarn to tie it off, the girl tastes the faint hint of wool and dust in her mouth.

As a joke, Bare Yarnie's friend hands her a ball of yarn to taste, and it surprisingly tastes like sugary cotton candy.

The girl's lips are stained with the flavours of different dyes used on the yarn. There is a faint taste of sweat and salt from her body, as she uses her teeth to cut and manipulate the yarn.




As they continued to giggle and unwind in the cozy room, Bare Yarnie's friend couldn't help but remark, "We may be a little strange, but we're lightsy at heart."

Bare Yarnie smiled, nodding in agreement. Yes, they were unconventional, but they were happy and at peace in their own unique way. And as she leaned back against a pile of soft blankets, Bare Yarnie couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.



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