She looked like you--if you hadn't come from a good family that is. Inked from head to toe, and not the ink of someone whose identity is wrapped up in how others see them, but in a desperate attempt to express themselves to the world.
The same hips, the same nape, the same thighs, the same eyes..
The eyes were different.
There were no pretensions or Self-Righteous *******. There was no desire to use everyone around her until they were used up
She simply existed, and it was beautiful.
We were better lovers, better partners, and better friends than you ever allowed us to be.
She never yelled at me for expressing my opinion, or talking about why I might be upset. She listened, and considered, and talked.