she is a blatant caricature in loud technicolor her presence shouts ****** innuendo alluring with dark undertones her past shadows her every word like clouds passing over a weak sun she is the road untold but by the few hardiest of souls her skin tangles his mind as she watches him in the rearview runs her hand through her hair repeatedly he is mesmerized by moist lips parted around phrases dark and foreboding the cool calculation of her casual appearance he is sleepwalking a dangerous dream he is a dramatic parody in shades of pastel a sorrowful tale told hesitatingly full of doubts and fears full of the gentlest of loves weak and stained he stands in the fell shadows waiting for her rusty razor blade kisses she has him like clouds passing over a weak sun and he loves her for it