A room is emotional, an object is not
You wait, little girl, on an empty stage
For fate to turn the light on
Your life, little girl, is an empty page
That men will want to write on
She's sitting inside. Twenty minutes in the same position in sheer palazzo pants and a blouse. Air circulates over her skin keeping the gauzy materials aloft. From afar the whites of her clothes blend with those of the open structure, a white puff on a white background.
Her head turns to look at the pillar to the the left of the entrance, and holds. Past the trellis, the cliff leads out to sea. The wood, paint and all the fixtures were bought for $600, including delivery and put together over the course of two weeks. Gazebocreations.com offers many styles and sizes as well as attractive rust resistant finishes.
Still on the bench, she holds a bottle of blue water to her lips and pours. Her head and the bottle tilt in unison. Her hair catches the air that flows through the absent walls. Her grasp displays shiny pink nails against the blue bottle.
From above, the freshly painted pillars form an octagon. A slim bench runs the length of seven sides, all but the entrance, left clear for entering and exiting. No tools required and raised footing for simplified cleanup!
You are sixteen going on seventeen
Baby, it's time to think
Better beware, be canny and careful
Baby, you're on the brink