tangled up in beauty
She liked to get tangled up in lace.
It gave her the feeling of being wrapped up in a warm embrace of pink and fabric and the smell of softener. Ever since she was little, she liked to hide in the linnen closet.
So she did that, still. She hanged lace from the ceiling and played with it when she could; tangling it up, wrapping it around herself and marveling at how bright it looked against her skin, stained by the red of her lips.
It was of a beauty she could not contain or explain.