I'm not religious, but certain scraps of christianity come together when I see this. The shroud of
I see innocence. But innocence lost, or innocence stolen never to be returned to its rightful owner. Kissed laid gently on skin that never sees the light of day. A well intentioned touch that burns and leaves a scar.
I picture a beautiful woman walking through the sun, fan in hand, caught in a downpour - washed suddenly from youth to old age.
I’ve said too much, I haven’t said enough. But I’ll stop, and leave some breath left in the room for you to make of this picture whatever you will.