She is beautiful always, and like this she seems ever more beautiful. Though her rosy pink skin has become a dark but smooth grey granite, her perfection is apparent in how much like a work of art she has become.
A flawless face, a perfect shape framed by hair that normally is a brighter and more wondrous gold than any ring or necklace. But at the moment the only gold is that of her headdress, the golden metal and pearls and jems glittering in contrast to her now dulled form.
Blank orbs below the wispy delicate strands of her eyelashes and eyebrows, a beautifully formed slope of her nose over lips that I must fight myself from kissing each