Original Post (06/01/2011)
Her large round eyes provide the sunshine in the day and the moonlight in the darkness. As a gust of wind blows, strands of her hair dance wildly in the air while the remaining frames her baby face.
Her smile moves her cheeks which moves her ears, which stops time on earth momentarily. Lips the colour of a tea rose; dark red on the inside, bright pink on the outside. Hands as soft as kittens, shows age and work, and independence. Mouth, nose, ears, cheeks, all proportions normal but seem special in this combination. She's beautiful.
But I still don't get butterflies, and my knees don't buckle, and there is no urge to go and dance in the rain....
because when I'm with her, I don't get butterflies because I can be myself. I don't have to be someone else for she loves me for who I am. There is no urge to dance in the rain because that's just silly; you don't want to catch a cold do you?
I'll still dance...
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