Beauty in her imperfections
There was beauty in her imperfections.
Like an ink smudge on a handwritten love letter, or the crumpled pages of a favourite book.
Like a faded family photograph, or wrinkles on a grandmother’s hand.
Like crackled colourful mosaics, or a chipped antique teacup.
Like a handmade sweater with that one odd stitch, warming your heart and soul.
Like shapeless beach rocks and cobblestone streets.
She was so beautifully imperfect, and he was captivated by imperfection.
TEXT BY YASMINE SAKER
