And she smiles, regardless of the battles in her mind, she smiles. She smiles with her perfectly chiseled lips in a way which heals me in infinite ways. But at times she decides to laugh, selflessly. And there she is, sitting with the unruly wind chime whiffing through her hair, rendering her eyes almost closed with immense joy of our togetherness. There she is, completely unaware of the beauty she radiates off her eyes, which could set the whole sky on fire, casting a spell on me. There she is, not having a slightest of the idea of the turbulent storms her carefree smile brings inside me. There she is, utterly unaffected by what life has done to her, laughing it off. There she is, having a dazzling gaze and a fragrance of pale yellow pages of literature.
And there she is, the last unrhymed line of a hopeless romantic song.
Leave a Reply