Thursday, April 21, 2011

the loss and the skip

she speaks slow. careful calculated enunciation. word after word layered on top of another. forming a majestic skyscraper made of vocals. a cacophonous echo of meanings screaming through hushed spoken words.

time moves slow when she talks. her lips, moves like the breeze, constant but gradually. you are mesmerized into a trance state equivalent to nirvana. her lips are a bed of red, you want to delve into. supple in nature, soft elastic fervor fever.

other lights in the room seem to dim, when she looks at you. your eyes move to gaze into the sea of her eyes. her eyes, blinding than any other lights.entrancing and enthralling. her eyes are waterbeds from heaven. iris of delicate light brown. lashes like roses growing mightily in a garden of miracles. her eyes are carefully lined, as if god drew it with a pencil himself.

the perfect symmetry of her eyes, suddenly interrupted by the stray hair that falls in front of her eyes. the wind seemed to be a canvas for her hair, a golden black tress of ethereal like thread coursing itself through. it paints a depiction of beauty in the air. the air without care.

time itself stops, as you realize the beat in the cage of your heart quickens. when, in one split of a second, your heart skipped a beat.

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