Tuesday, January 12, 2016

An Angel



She walks with this air about her
part clandestine, part seriousness
her long brown hair flows behind her like
a dress' train
she is clothed in black pants and a sweater 
the elegance comes from somewhere deeper
she's well-read, and knows more words than the author
these sort of things do not seem to bother her
she takes the bus to work and likes it
she talks to her mother every day
her nails are long, and painted a muted color that is subtle
and works harmoniously with all other aspects of herself
she knows who she is
because she spent those hours and those nights thinking, quietly
she likes jewelry and flowers
she likes terminator and gummy worms
this is a person who wouldn't change for anyone
she wears headphones in her apartment
she grinds her coffee and puts it in a french press 
she loves me and for that I am endlessly lucky

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