soft like blue skies and dim light. hard like the look in your eyes when you don’t understand or the walls you put up when you don’t want me close to you.
kelly
My dog Conrad is the texture of silk. I love the way his fur feels because he is so soft and he is always very loveable. He tries to do things so well all the time. That is why I love him. He is such a hard worker and I love him.
Hannah
It felt rough between my fingers.
The edges of it ridged,
the surface had small bumps covering it.
I ran my hand along it,
my fingertips moved over each tiny hill.
I like texture very much since it is not in my own cell phone. Just beacause it doesn’t work as it used to, the multi touch stuff is a crap. Without anything else to say, just wishing the time is up, i say goodbye and…. good luck.
Rita
She let her hands roll over the yellowing pages of her book as the grass curled around her legs. The wind grasped the pages and flipped through them curiously before stopping on a page with a script title, chapter 7.
She smiled before turning back to the page she had marked with her finger and flipped over onto her stomach. Her eyes read over the words but glance up occasionally to the greying skyline.
She ran her hands over the canvas. Savouring the feel of the uneven surface, the texture of the painting and recreating the image of the painting she couldn’t see in her mind.
Soft, it encompasses me,
taking over all of my senses..
cold it suddenly turns hard
and uninviting.
The texture turns
me away
from the happiness I felt.
Julia
giraffe
aare greata nad the textriure of rice is weird but good and sticky. Some textures on cloths are nice like cashmere i bought a cashmere sweater today and omg the texture was so nice and soft. TEXTURE. and i just texture is great on anything.
Charlie
These wispy ends of your curls
the crease of your smiling eyes
one humble dip where high bone meet lips
the smooth tequila on your tongue
and spicy fragrant I cannot recall
I never think I can catch it
the essence of simply you
I walk through the city. I need to feel it again, the texture of excitement from that one place. It appeared into my life and now I cant find it again. If only I paid attention. If only.
Evan
texture. its a funny word…but it makes sense to me. i dont know why…but it does…im weird like that…i like textures….always been that way…i love experiencing things….how something feels rough…like this berber carpet im sitting on…or the soft comforter that ive been wrapping myself up in lately. as a kid…i loved those texture exploration books…the furry stuff…bumpy stuff…i just love touch…thats my favorite sense…is touch…i love touching…when i have sex…its all about the touch for me…experiencing the textures of someones smooth skin…their rough, kinky hair…sensing the sinewyness of the body…the texture of the hands…some are rough and others are smooth.
Corinne
Cracked and crumbling, the concrete ruin stooped under the weight of the gray lead sky. Ocean waves dashed themselves apart on the rocks, leaving me splattered in cold Baltic water. I tried to remind myself why I had come to this empty place, but all I could focus on as I regarded my surroundings was the texture of salt and gritty disappointment on my tongue.
The texture of the carpet made me think. This room was not just a room. Things happened in this room. There was a lot of tears, and a lot of blood. I never wished for her to stab herself, caking the floor with dried blood and tears, but then again, she never did what I wanted anyways.
soft rubbing of velvet that turns to wool nubbles on a toy, felt hat, kitten soft. This is the texture of my life right now. It has scent and color too.
pat
The texture of the drawing was perfect. It brilliantly made everyone think that it was real. Wow, this sucks, help me! I don’t know anything about art! What the heck am I doing? Help me, please oh please, fix me. Make me whole again, I want to be renewed, and I don’t care about the cost that it takes. I don’t care if I throw my life away, so long as you can fix me.
Matt
The texture of my dog’s fur helps me relax I learn to give love by stroking her soft fur. She loves we love we are all in this together. The texture of our lives in unfolding before us. Sometimes smooth and sometimes rough but always changing.
Rick c
I like texture, texture tells us loads about what something is, we enjoy textures, we may not like something because of the texture of it or we may love something because of the texture for example food, i do not like fish because the texture is gross
lydia
The texture of her shirt was the first thing I noticed when I touched her for the first time. Then her skin, and how soft it was. This texture was better than the texture of her shirt against me. Just..her…her and her skin.
texture is like feeling all of the rough edges of a newly sliced piece of wood, or in the kitchen a knife slicing through oranges, green peppers, and cheese. smooth as a plum or stubbly as a prickly pear. the texture of your hair as i run my fingers through it. or of the bedsheets warm at night. the texture of the sweet song playing on the radio.
laura
the texture of her skin and the way she looks when she’s walking in the rain and the wisps of hair that tickle her face and how the wind billows her skirt and her heart and her soul i love it all
liam
texture comes in many shapes and sizes, just like people. The texture of every indivuduals personality is different, some rough, some soft. text
Denise
The texture of my Spaniards skin is young and sweet. A bit soft, like a true poet should be. Delicate and delicious. Unconcerned with testosterone. More impacted by sensuality.
Monica
The texture of the screen was rough to skin. The uneven pixels like sandpaper to the eyes. This was new-age, a time when the physical was forgotten, foregone entirely in favor of technology.
johnnyflashbang
She put them on. The world twisted, rearranged itself, tip-tilted strangely in front of her eyes. She reached out, trying to look and not look at the same time, and took a step. Same old dirt beneath her bare feet.
If there’s one thing I hate the most in the whole world it’s the texture of food. Any and all food. If you give me broccoli I’ll refuse to eat it. If you try to give me icecream I’ll laugh in your face. I just really hate it. All of it.
Texture? Hmm, It’s so strange. If I don’t like the texture of something, I won’t eat it. Texture to me is everything. Texture Texture. Texture. Texture texture.
TeeExTure.
Chamomo
soft. fluffy.
teddy bear.
cruel intentions is on oxygen.
you should go and watch it.
texture.
rough.
sandpaper.
soft
moist
kiss
lips
love
the end
bye
just kidding
I ran my hand across the dress. It felt like silk, but a kind of silk no one had ever felt before. I couldn’t put a name on it, it brought back so many memories. It reminded me of orange, of attics and green eyes. I looked up to the doctor, who asked what I felt.
“Does this bring back any memories?” He asked.
And then, my amnesia unlocked the memory. I sat cross legged in my his attic with him, looking through old pictures and toy cars. I looked at him, and the light flashed through his green eyes. He looked up at me, and I smiled down into my lap, looking at my orange silk dress.
“No,” I respond to the doctor. “I don’t remember anything.
Her fingers moved across the fabric, a small smile growing on her face. She loved the way it felt. It reminded her a little of her mother’s favourite dress from when she was a child. Her eyes slowly unfocused as she returned to her childhood, remembering the way she would watch her parents dance across the living room floor, her mother’s dress twirling around.
Natasha Merriman
the texture of my skin felt exceptionally smooth when he caressed (god! the word caress is so cheesy) my back. maybe it was in comparison to his hands that were over worked, under appreciated and dry.
i was ready and willing to…
Someone Else
I think texture is what colors the world. What makes grass different from green, water different from the sky, and sand different from wood. We feel not with our hearts or our minds, but with our hands.
Faith
The texture of his skin was pure bliss to her. Whenever they touched, her soul was on fire and it was like she was awake for the first time in her life. Every second together was like a gift; she never wanted their love to end. She hoped that he felt the same.
KGM
Olivia lowered herself carefully, noting the frayed texture and faded stains on the courtroom chairs. She cringed when she noticed that the plastic water jugs held an uncanny resemblance to the bedpans she had just left in Matt’s hospital room. Worse still they had a yellowish tinge around the pouring edge. Surely in modern day Australia we could do better than this she thought to herself. But she had to bring her mind back to the job and focus. Matt’s entire future was in the balance and it was her job to prove that Detective Lambert was corrupt to the core.
sharon london
Texture. Textiles. Bathroom floor tiles. Textures in a rubbly manner, as if visiting the bathroom is like visiting the pebbled beach. Tred carefully on the textured floor tiles.
the rough pages did not glide over her fingers. She had imagined this moment to be a glorious one and instead, flicking through the pages of her wedding album all she feared was a paper cut. what a frustrating day!
the texture of the clothing was nice, but a little rough for me as I walked through the mall. It was 6pm and the sun had already begun to set. I looked around and the emptiness of the store was erie, but a simple reminder of the reality I lived in as Zombies made their way up the street. It was cold. I needed a jacket.
soft like blue skies and dim light. hard like the look in your eyes when you don’t understand or the walls you put up when you don’t want me close to you.
My dog Conrad is the texture of silk. I love the way his fur feels because he is so soft and he is always very loveable. He tries to do things so well all the time. That is why I love him. He is such a hard worker and I love him.
It felt rough between my fingers.
The edges of it ridged,
the surface had small bumps covering it.
I ran my hand along it,
my fingertips moved over each tiny hill.
I like texture very much since it is not in my own cell phone. Just beacause it doesn’t work as it used to, the multi touch stuff is a crap. Without anything else to say, just wishing the time is up, i say goodbye and…. good luck.
She let her hands roll over the yellowing pages of her book as the grass curled around her legs. The wind grasped the pages and flipped through them curiously before stopping on a page with a script title, chapter 7.
She smiled before turning back to the page she had marked with her finger and flipped over onto her stomach. Her eyes read over the words but glance up occasionally to the greying skyline.
She ran her hands over the canvas. Savouring the feel of the uneven surface, the texture of the painting and recreating the image of the painting she couldn’t see in her mind.
It is the feel of sand in between your toes, the velvet dress you wore to an evening dinner and the soft lips of your lover’s kisses.
Five senses.
Feel..
the ability to sense
TEXTURE
It invites me.
It turns me away,
is warm or cold.
Everything is different
Soft, it encompasses me,
taking over all of my senses..
cold it suddenly turns hard
and uninviting.
The texture turns
me away
from the happiness I felt.
giraffe
aare greata nad the textriure of rice is weird but good and sticky. Some textures on cloths are nice like cashmere i bought a cashmere sweater today and omg the texture was so nice and soft. TEXTURE. and i just texture is great on anything.
These wispy ends of your curls
the crease of your smiling eyes
one humble dip where high bone meet lips
the smooth tequila on your tongue
and spicy fragrant I cannot recall
I never think I can catch it
the essence of simply you
I walk through the city. I need to feel it again, the texture of excitement from that one place. It appeared into my life and now I cant find it again. If only I paid attention. If only.
texture. its a funny word…but it makes sense to me. i dont know why…but it does…im weird like that…i like textures….always been that way…i love experiencing things….how something feels rough…like this berber carpet im sitting on…or the soft comforter that ive been wrapping myself up in lately. as a kid…i loved those texture exploration books…the furry stuff…bumpy stuff…i just love touch…thats my favorite sense…is touch…i love touching…when i have sex…its all about the touch for me…experiencing the textures of someones smooth skin…their rough, kinky hair…sensing the sinewyness of the body…the texture of the hands…some are rough and others are smooth.
Cracked and crumbling, the concrete ruin stooped under the weight of the gray lead sky. Ocean waves dashed themselves apart on the rocks, leaving me splattered in cold Baltic water. I tried to remind myself why I had come to this empty place, but all I could focus on as I regarded my surroundings was the texture of salt and gritty disappointment on my tongue.
The texture of the carpet made me think. This room was not just a room. Things happened in this room. There was a lot of tears, and a lot of blood. I never wished for her to stab herself, caking the floor with dried blood and tears, but then again, she never did what I wanted anyways.
The texture of his hair was different than she had imagined it to be. It was thick, yet silky, a new feeling she had never known.
soft rubbing of velvet that turns to wool nubbles on a toy, felt hat, kitten soft. This is the texture of my life right now. It has scent and color too.
The texture of the drawing was perfect. It brilliantly made everyone think that it was real. Wow, this sucks, help me! I don’t know anything about art! What the heck am I doing? Help me, please oh please, fix me. Make me whole again, I want to be renewed, and I don’t care about the cost that it takes. I don’t care if I throw my life away, so long as you can fix me.
The texture of my dog’s fur helps me relax I learn to give love by stroking her soft fur. She loves we love we are all in this together. The texture of our lives in unfolding before us. Sometimes smooth and sometimes rough but always changing.
I like texture, texture tells us loads about what something is, we enjoy textures, we may not like something because of the texture of it or we may love something because of the texture for example food, i do not like fish because the texture is gross
The texture of her shirt was the first thing I noticed when I touched her for the first time. Then her skin, and how soft it was. This texture was better than the texture of her shirt against me. Just..her…her and her skin.
texture is like feeling all of the rough edges of a newly sliced piece of wood, or in the kitchen a knife slicing through oranges, green peppers, and cheese. smooth as a plum or stubbly as a prickly pear. the texture of your hair as i run my fingers through it. or of the bedsheets warm at night. the texture of the sweet song playing on the radio.
the texture of her skin and the way she looks when she’s walking in the rain and the wisps of hair that tickle her face and how the wind billows her skirt and her heart and her soul i love it all
texture comes in many shapes and sizes, just like people. The texture of every indivuduals personality is different, some rough, some soft. text
The texture of my Spaniards skin is young and sweet. A bit soft, like a true poet should be. Delicate and delicious. Unconcerned with testosterone. More impacted by sensuality.
The texture of the screen was rough to skin. The uneven pixels like sandpaper to the eyes. This was new-age, a time when the physical was forgotten, foregone entirely in favor of technology.
She put them on. The world twisted, rearranged itself, tip-tilted strangely in front of her eyes. She reached out, trying to look and not look at the same time, and took a step. Same old dirt beneath her bare feet.
If there’s one thing I hate the most in the whole world it’s the texture of food. Any and all food. If you give me broccoli I’ll refuse to eat it. If you try to give me icecream I’ll laugh in your face. I just really hate it. All of it.
Texture is something that you can only perceive. That is one of the reasons why the human body is so amazing.
Texture? Hmm, It’s so strange. If I don’t like the texture of something, I won’t eat it. Texture to me is everything. Texture Texture. Texture. Texture texture.
TeeExTure.
soft. fluffy.
teddy bear.
cruel intentions is on oxygen.
you should go and watch it.
texture.
rough.
sandpaper.
soft
moist
kiss
lips
love
the end
bye
just kidding
I ran my hand across the dress. It felt like silk, but a kind of silk no one had ever felt before. I couldn’t put a name on it, it brought back so many memories. It reminded me of orange, of attics and green eyes. I looked up to the doctor, who asked what I felt.
“Does this bring back any memories?” He asked.
And then, my amnesia unlocked the memory. I sat cross legged in my his attic with him, looking through old pictures and toy cars. I looked at him, and the light flashed through his green eyes. He looked up at me, and I smiled down into my lap, looking at my orange silk dress.
“No,” I respond to the doctor. “I don’t remember anything.
Her fingers moved across the fabric, a small smile growing on her face. She loved the way it felt. It reminded her a little of her mother’s favourite dress from when she was a child. Her eyes slowly unfocused as she returned to her childhood, remembering the way she would watch her parents dance across the living room floor, her mother’s dress twirling around.
the texture of my skin felt exceptionally smooth when he caressed (god! the word caress is so cheesy) my back. maybe it was in comparison to his hands that were over worked, under appreciated and dry.
i was ready and willing to…
I think texture is what colors the world. What makes grass different from green, water different from the sky, and sand different from wood. We feel not with our hearts or our minds, but with our hands.
The texture of his skin was pure bliss to her. Whenever they touched, her soul was on fire and it was like she was awake for the first time in her life. Every second together was like a gift; she never wanted their love to end. She hoped that he felt the same.
Olivia lowered herself carefully, noting the frayed texture and faded stains on the courtroom chairs. She cringed when she noticed that the plastic water jugs held an uncanny resemblance to the bedpans she had just left in Matt’s hospital room. Worse still they had a yellowish tinge around the pouring edge. Surely in modern day Australia we could do better than this she thought to herself. But she had to bring her mind back to the job and focus. Matt’s entire future was in the balance and it was her job to prove that Detective Lambert was corrupt to the core.
Texture. Textiles. Bathroom floor tiles. Textures in a rubbly manner, as if visiting the bathroom is like visiting the pebbled beach. Tred carefully on the textured floor tiles.
the rough pages did not glide over her fingers. She had imagined this moment to be a glorious one and instead, flicking through the pages of her wedding album all she feared was a paper cut. what a frustrating day!
the texture of the clothing was nice, but a little rough for me as I walked through the mall. It was 6pm and the sun had already begun to set. I looked around and the emptiness of the store was erie, but a simple reminder of the reality I lived in as Zombies made their way up the street. It was cold. I needed a jacket.