She was a stranger to limitations
She held in her agile mind a vast wealth of information
But there was nothing she knew better, nothing that came more naturally to her
Than disguising her existence, slipping a veil over the entirety of her spirit
She pressed herself into the background like smoothing the glued edges of a cutout to the paper
It came so naturally to her,
This stepping back and allowing the darkness beyond the spotlight to absorb her.
In her heart she loved to shine, but her sparkle was naturally a subtle one,
Just a nod to the brightness that lay in her eyes. And- oh- those eyes!
By all accounts they were lovely.
But she never used them, some said.
She was not the girl to meet your eye. And naturally so, for there was something about her eyes
Something, you see, that made her… the stuff of legends. Dangerous, mysterious, ethereal.
And so her sparkle came only to those who really and truly looked
But that select few was said to be wonderfully lucky.
Because the natural beauty she possessed was something else indeed if one were to behold it
Not that too many were there to behold her
They were in the center, or at least as close to it as they could get
But she, naturally, had fastened herself to the wall
She was a natural flower,
Made to be naturally set aside and let be, she said.
So she slipped her proverbial veil over the natural beauty of her spirit
And let herself fade to near-nothingness. To everyone but her, that is.
But her natural beauty was still evident, not just to her, but to me.