Ceramic floor, smooth and reflecting,
Platform heels, steady and clicking,
Voluminous hair, tied up with grace,
Arms are milky, and so is her face,
Her dress is shimmering and not expensive,
As turquoise as her eyes,
She stares at her pitch black figure,
And smiles; all to herself,
She obscures the dim light rays,
From crystals of the chandelier,
She glances at her own hands,
All smeared with graphite,
The melody starts off magically,
Initiating an electric impulse,
A hidden army buried inside,
Makes an exit outside her,
Swoosh, swivel, slide,
The room is already vibrating,
Drinking slowly her berry mix,
Pretending that it is red wine,
Three more hours, or even more,
Left for her parents to come,
She better not mess up the orientations,
Or someone will spot the difference,
She stabs and crushes the fear leftover,
And gazes at her mirror friend,
Planting herself all over it,
Since it looks so winsome tonight,
She chants with her sweet voice,
Making the furniture paralyzed,
And so, that was the end,
Of her mini celebration,
She changes back to her night gown,
Wondering, as she fell asleep,
If someone painted the picture,
Or even recorded a video.
Love her, she can entrance you when I can not keep you for seconds.
Love her, you can float together in endless skies.
Love her, you are as free as long-lost birds.
Love her, queer things are sometimes lovely.
Love her, but brilliant things are always frenzy.
Love her, jealousy cuts me open, yet the sight of crimson keeps me moving.
Love her, she captivates you, while I stand there secretely longing.
Love her, she would not ask you to love someone else.
Love her, I am willing to go on living with pretence.
Love her, for I am always the one loved less.
Love her, I used to shield you from the rain and now it’s gone.
Love her, I am used to the state of being forlorn.
Love her, she’s here right now, you wouldn’t want to miss the train.
Love her, love her, love her, just don’t do it in front of me.
what was I thinking?