Beschrijving
She wasn't born-she was drawn.
A single line brought her into being, resting forever on a stone wall, eyes full of far-off dreams and garden winds.
The villagers called her la fille du chou frisé, for the kale grew wild wherever she lingered.
Some say she was waiting for something. Others say she was the waiting itself.
One morning, she vanished.
But the kale still grows taller where her gaze once fell.
A single line brought her into being, resting forever on a stone wall, eyes full of far-off dreams and garden winds.
The villagers called her la fille du chou frisé, for the kale grew wild wherever she lingered.
Some say she was waiting for something. Others say she was the waiting itself.
One morning, she vanished.
But the kale still grows taller where her gaze once fell.
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Gent
60x bekeken
1x bewaard
Sinds 2 jul '25
Zoekertjesnummer: m2284801891
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