This is what I wrote tonight when given this prompt:
"Sepia-toned Longing"
In this old photograph I'm scanning at work there's a couple standing, holding hands. I can almost feel the blush on the cheeks of the woman whose hair is a dark bob, maybe black, possibly chocolate. The dress she wears is a varied shade of old brown. Dark specks of flowers gathered in her right hand, tulips or roses, they are too small to tell. There are faded mountains in the background becoming light sepia waves behind the couple. Her eyes peek beneath her hair at the photographer, almost cautious, nearly daring. Her lover leans toward her, chin resting on her shoulder, lips lifted to give or receive a kiss, playfully and lovingly. A foot kicked back excitedly, while holding her hand firmly for balance. The lover's eyes show not interest in the photographer, but instead are turned towards her, daring her to turn her face and receive the kiss awaiting her. A cascade of blonde hair falls in sepia-highlighted curls down her back, and I imagine her lover turns to give her a kiss after the photographer has shot his picture. Instead, one woman waits eternally for a kiss the other woman will never give so boldly.
I will end up turning this into a poem.
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