The unkempt cluster of hair piled on the top of her head
The little wispy curls on the back of her neck.
That grey over sized, off the shoulder Tshirt.
Her slightly crooked glasses
That obtained that characteristic
When she not so gracefully sat on them.
The squeal she makes when I play that one song.
The smile she makes when I pull away from a kiss.
The eyes that actually show you another world.
Where the sky is silver, and the water is green, and the earth is blue.
And I can fly.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
The unkempt cluster of hair piled on the top of her head
The little wispy curls on the back of her neck.
That grey over sized, off the shoulder Tshirt.
Her slightly crooked glasses
That obtained that characteristic
When she not so gracefully sat on them.
The squeal she makes when I play that one song.
The smile she makes when I pull away from a kiss.
The eyes that actually show you another world.
Where the sky is silver, and the water is green, and the earth is blue.
And I can fly.
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