So they say a girl can mesmerize a man just by fluttering her lashes
But unless you’re Betty Boop that doesn’t really work.
You’re kind of just putting yourself down and totally eating up the sexist bullshit.
“Just stand in the corner and look pretty, I’ll call you when I’m ready for you to physically arouse me.”
Her lashes were long. They were beautiful, really. I had always been enamored by them. The length of them; the crazy beauty of them. They made her just that much more gorgeous. I was shocked and speechless, it always took a conscious effort for me to glance away.
her lashes were long and her eyes were bright, shining through the darkness as the lights danced off of her hair and the metallic of her dress. she wanted lose herself in the heat, let the music fill her lungs until she chocked, and she couldn’t let herself be here anymore.
They are long and beautiful with tranquil lining. The way they flutter and float. Excuisite to look and to behold their touch. Days go by I think I’ll die.
she kept batting her lashes, in the annoying way that girls do when they are trying to flirt. i just rolled my eyes, she was shameless. Seriously, who else would flirt with this many people in one night? WOW.
Darkness. The black of his eyelashes only adds to the beauty of the deep pools of hazel that captivate me. I cannot control my heartbeat when those eyes meet mine and finally I feel at peace. He is home.
They blink across my skin, butterfly kisses like sweet innocence. Tomorrow, they’ll be gone to flutter among the May breezes. But tonight, they are mine and mine alone. I will possess that innocence
39 lashes, one man’s back, a whole world’s sins, forgiven, because one man bore 39 lashes. A world that doesn’t think a saviour is for them, this saviour bled and died, starting with 39 lashes and ending on a cross.
twirled through my thoughts of beauty and grandeur as i stared longingly into her eyes. the very tips of her soul stretched out through those eyelashes and drew daggers through the air like icicles.
Closed eyes rested idly on the pillow, the caked mascara rubbing against the white satin sheet. I let my fingers just touch and those blue eyes opened with a snap.
Her lashes were heavy and dark, like too much mascara. The lips were neon pink; disgusting, but it fit right in in a dive like this. I walked towards her, pulling the gun out of my pocket.
They’re long. Mine sometimes falls off because of the amount of mascara I put on. I don’t understand why longer ones are better. Do they make you look more mysterious? Or is it just a feminine thing? I have guy friends with long lashes. They do look prettier
Her lashes fluttered as he kissed her softly. She looked at him with such love that anyone who saw much think her crazy. But she wasn’t, for he felt the same way.
She lashed out with fists and knees and elbows like a seizing octopus. It was hard to watch her struggle, and I wanted to hold her arms against her sides and bring her as close as I could, let her feel that she was strong and contained and everything was fine, but I could not bear to be the one to confine her. She broke a lamp and the room went dark, lit in streaming slants of street light through the blinds. Someday this would stop, I told myself. The desperate hope in that thought tasted stale in the air of our apartment.
Long. Incredibly so. And sometimes frustrating. But oh so telling of a person’s character. Do they leave them nude? Exposed to the world. Do they believe in their natural beauty? Or do they dress them up?
they are on your eyes they are long and usually brown a girl can flutter her eyelashes and get the attention of a cute boy they make your eyes look big and round they look pretty with make up and also naturally
Her long lashes brushed against my cheek as I kissed her. She’s beautiful, even when my eyes are closed. I can’t stop thinking about her, even as she tells me that she’s not ready for me and her to be us. It’s okay, I can wait. I’d wait forever to be with her.
lashes are something people have always told me were the coolest part of my face. They are long, but lack volume. It dissapointing. Im wtrying to study but i can’t. I hate biology.
Her eyelashes are wet with the tears she has cried throughout the day. She blinks rapidly, but still she cries, on and on. ‘We regret to inform you, Mrs Goodman, that your husband has been killed in action.’
I have no idea what to write for this. It seems the like the words keep getting harder, just like throughout the day the mascara on my eye….lashes. Wow, that’s amazing..
Her lashes brush the cold glass as she pushes her face up against the window frame and stares out into the rain. It stains the petals of the garden a darker shade, into the color of blood. A dismal sigh escapes her lips.
Your eye lashes feel like butterflies fluttering against my cheek. I love butterflies in the summer. They seem so beautiful and free. They make me think of peaceful summer days. I love summer. I suck at this.
eyelashes are a good thing to have. they keep bugs and other weird stuff out of your eyes. although, lashes sometimes fall into your eyes, they define the eyes and give the eye contrast. pretty cool!
it was discomforting to see her without eyelashes. It hurt, almost, to look at. I remembered when she had hair. Red. God, it was beautiful–with just the perfect amount of curl. Now… She didn’t even have eyelashes.
they’re long, and they can get in the way when you have a fire buring, be careful or they’ll get burned, then you cut them too short. they can also rub on your glasses and get them dirty. but long lashes are nice, are sexy, are rare.
She had tiny lashes that even with the best mascara Siobhán could buy from Chanel her eyes still could not obtain that divine smokey look every little mouse craved for the ultra chic look.
Her eyes softened, her tears collecting on her lashes. “You know… I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.” She wiped her eyes with the Kleenex, cotton pieces stickng to her wet face. “Thank you.”
you’re lashes, you are lashes on your own face. when i look at your lashes i see all i need to see about you ever, fanned out, slim, sweet, always, and soft against my eyelids.
Lashes drape over my eyes like undulating grassy knolls. I do not dream through eye lashes. Instead they hold my dreams in; they do not let them (the dreams) get away.
So they say a girl can mesmerize a man just by fluttering her lashes
But unless you’re Betty Boop that doesn’t really work.
You’re kind of just putting yourself down and totally eating up the sexist bullshit.
“Just stand in the corner and look pretty, I’ll call you when I’m ready for you to physically arouse me.”
Her lashes were long. They were beautiful, really. I had always been enamored by them. The length of them; the crazy beauty of them. They made her just that much more gorgeous. I was shocked and speechless, it always took a conscious effort for me to glance away.
eye lashes. fifty lashes.
soft
and brutal.
who knew?
her lashes were long and her eyes were bright, shining through the darkness as the lights danced off of her hair and the metallic of her dress. she wanted lose herself in the heat, let the music fill her lungs until she chocked, and she couldn’t let herself be here anymore.
Lashes. Hers were long, and fluttered like butterfly wings. But they were for deceiving, I knew. They were lying lashes.
eye lashes have a huge variety of size they go from bug ti small…women take care of their own like they are their tressure
Everyday she battes her eyelashes flirting with every guy in the room. Including the guy I like! I thought we were ‘best friends.’
Cliche drama story.
Spongebob: we’ll get 40 lashes.
patrick (thinking): screen switches to a picture of patrick with lots of eyelashes.
They are long and beautiful with tranquil lining. The way they flutter and float. Excuisite to look and to behold their touch. Days go by I think I’ll die.
she kept batting her lashes, in the annoying way that girls do when they are trying to flirt. i just rolled my eyes, she was shameless. Seriously, who else would flirt with this many people in one night? WOW.
Darkness. The black of his eyelashes only adds to the beauty of the deep pools of hazel that captivate me. I cannot control my heartbeat when those eyes meet mine and finally I feel at peace. He is home.
They blink across my skin, butterfly kisses like sweet innocence. Tomorrow, they’ll be gone to flutter among the May breezes. But tonight, they are mine and mine alone. I will possess that innocence
39 lashes, one man’s back, a whole world’s sins, forgiven, because one man bore 39 lashes. A world that doesn’t think a saviour is for them, this saviour bled and died, starting with 39 lashes and ending on a cross.
those things above your eyes? At first i read ‘lashings’, but that was silly and i re-read. this is still silly, though. oh well. it happens.
twirled through my thoughts of beauty and grandeur as i stared longingly into her eyes. the very tips of her soul stretched out through those eyelashes and drew daggers through the air like icicles.
Lashes on my back turn to your lashes brushing my cheek, soft as a sigh, long as a lie.
Closed eyes rested idly on the pillow, the caked mascara rubbing against the white satin sheet. I let my fingers just touch and those blue eyes opened with a snap.
Her lashes were heavy and dark, like too much mascara. The lips were neon pink; disgusting, but it fit right in in a dive like this. I walked towards her, pulling the gun out of my pocket.
They’re long. Mine sometimes falls off because of the amount of mascara I put on. I don’t understand why longer ones are better. Do they make you look more mysterious? Or is it just a feminine thing? I have guy friends with long lashes. They do look prettier
Her lashes fluttered as he kissed her softly. She looked at him with such love that anyone who saw much think her crazy. But she wasn’t, for he felt the same way.
She lashed out with fists and knees and elbows like a seizing octopus. It was hard to watch her struggle, and I wanted to hold her arms against her sides and bring her as close as I could, let her feel that she was strong and contained and everything was fine, but I could not bear to be the one to confine her. She broke a lamp and the room went dark, lit in streaming slants of street light through the blinds. Someday this would stop, I told myself. The desperate hope in that thought tasted stale in the air of our apartment.
Long. Incredibly so. And sometimes frustrating. But oh so telling of a person’s character. Do they leave them nude? Exposed to the world. Do they believe in their natural beauty? Or do they dress them up?
they are on your eyes they are long and usually brown a girl can flutter her eyelashes and get the attention of a cute boy they make your eyes look big and round they look pretty with make up and also naturally
Her long lashes brushed against my cheek as I kissed her. She’s beautiful, even when my eyes are closed. I can’t stop thinking about her, even as she tells me that she’s not ready for me and her to be us. It’s okay, I can wait. I’d wait forever to be with her.
the unexpected guest
happening by chance
through an open window
cool rain suddenly
lashes
lashes are something people have always told me were the coolest part of my face. They are long, but lack volume. It dissapointing. Im wtrying to study but i can’t. I hate biology.
Her eyelashes are wet with the tears she has cried throughout the day. She blinks rapidly, but still she cries, on and on. ‘We regret to inform you, Mrs Goodman, that your husband has been killed in action.’
I have no idea what to write for this. It seems the like the words keep getting harder, just like throughout the day the mascara on my eye….lashes. Wow, that’s amazing..
Her lashes brush the cold glass as she pushes her face up against the window frame and stares out into the rain. It stains the petals of the garden a darker shade, into the color of blood. A dismal sigh escapes her lips.
Your eye lashes feel like butterflies fluttering against my cheek. I love butterflies in the summer. They seem so beautiful and free. They make me think of peaceful summer days. I love summer. I suck at this.
eyelashes are a good thing to have. they keep bugs and other weird stuff out of your eyes. although, lashes sometimes fall into your eyes, they define the eyes and give the eye contrast. pretty cool!
it was discomforting to see her without eyelashes. It hurt, almost, to look at. I remembered when she had hair. Red. God, it was beautiful–with just the perfect amount of curl. Now… She didn’t even have eyelashes.
they’re long, and they can get in the way when you have a fire buring, be careful or they’ll get burned, then you cut them too short. they can also rub on your glasses and get them dirty. but long lashes are nice, are sexy, are rare.
She had tiny lashes that even with the best mascara Siobhán could buy from Chanel her eyes still could not obtain that divine smokey look every little mouse craved for the ultra chic look.
I pulled the lash off her shoulder, it resting on the tip of my index finger. I blew it off at her, a smirk across her face.
Her eye lashes gently grazed my cheek ever so slightly, “what’s this?” i asked, “shhh” she replied, “this is exactly what you’ve been waiting for”
Her eyes softened, her tears collecting on her lashes. “You know… I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.” She wiped her eyes with the Kleenex, cotton pieces stickng to her wet face. “Thank you.”
you’re lashes, you are lashes on your own face. when i look at your lashes i see all i need to see about you ever, fanned out, slim, sweet, always, and soft against my eyelids.
Lashes drape over my eyes like undulating grassy knolls. I do not dream through eye lashes. Instead they hold my dreams in; they do not let them (the dreams) get away.
long, black, contagious. i cant stop looking. water drips beatifully from the ends. and the crying never stops… just cold drips continue to drop.