Her (About a girl)

Descriptive piece about a girl I know, and how I feel about her.

Her movements are fluid like water, as graceful as a swan’s. Sheer radiant beauty, she is a goddess before me. Sitting so delicately on the gallery floor, looking, writing, looking again. No other could carry her seemless grace.

It is the simple things that draw me to her; the subtle tones in her voice, her strong but smooth accent captivates me, when she begins to speak everything falls away and there is only her. Her sweet smile fills me with a burning wish to pull her close to me, to keep her. Once I had her I could make her smile every day, and take joy in the love of one so perfect.

The way she looks upon this painting now, her eyes meeting with an unknown phantom. Gazing at them in a way that makes me wonder, could I stay standing if she were to ever look at me that way? A lock of hair falls around her face as she writes and I long to be the one to brush it away; to be permitted to look into those dark pools, to lose myself in them.

I know every inch of her face, her shapely lips, her slightly curled lashes, and her smooth porcelain skin. She is truly flawless. I think of her flowing curves, her rounded breasts, her slender legs and it is all I can do to keep my heart beating. Her radiance steals my breath, it freezes me, keeps me focused on only her. I would sacrifice everything for just one chance to hold her, one chance to feel her velvety lips caress mine, to run my hands through her soft dark hair.

Sometimes I dream of her. In my dreams she is mine, and mine alone. These are the dreams that I never want to wake from. When I am dreaming I am close to her like nobody else is. Close enough to memorise her fragrant scents, to map every line on her body in my mind. I dream that I can hold her, run my hands down the gentle curve of her back as I draw her closer to me. These are the dreams that I love the most, the dreams that I cherish.

She does not know that I think of her, that I treasure every moment with her. She does not notice that every time I look at her in all her radiant beauty, I smile. She does not know that she is loved.

The End

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