We all knew that since the day we met her.
There's nothing we can do or stop her, she does what she pleases.
We love her, we hate her, there's not enough of her.
She can amuse the least amused and repulse the least repulsed, there's nothing out of her league.
She leaps when she's supposed to walk, she spins when she's supposed to turn.
She's a curve, not a line and not in italics but a bold with double underlines.
She's a storm in a shade of blue and an inferno waiting to combust.
She considers the unconsidered and ignores the common considerations.
She's a bow in the hair and a bullet in a gun.
She's the plug in the socket and the leak in the roof.
What can I say?
She can blow up at any moment.
She's a dying star.
1 Confessions:
Fantastic! I like the way that your writing is developing!
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