#jammypost

she breaks all laws; physical, psychological, societal. no amount of pretty words and flowing langue can tie her personality down, constrain the hurricane of her wit or the earthquake in her eyes. she is a chaotic force to reckon with, one that rather than tiptoeing on man's thin line separating wrong from right will take it and play jump rope instead. trying to describe her has less chance of happening than finding that famous needle in its equally famed haystack-- and yet it's that less than negative chance i have at success that pushes me to fall to my knees and search anyway.

she melted under my touch like hot wax, and i kissed her hungrily, choosing not to think of how charred my lips would be after we were done.

she did love him. she swore it up and down on the very cross that she wore. and yet, she pulled back each time he kissed her, and her calendar was ransacked with red circles around the dates that he was to be gone.

she sipped her scalding hot coffee as though it were a fine wine.

i grow tired of describing people sometimes. i can think of a thousand new ways to describe a thousand new faces, and yet it all seems the same when i am done. there is no dip in my writing, just a tired lull of a cracked dusty record playing on repeat. there is no flair, just the same old secondhand tap-shoes, never worn. i wish i could make it all amount to something new, something eye catching and interesting, but the sad truth is this: in all the years i've held pen to paper, i've never seen anything more eye catching and interesting than a stranger's face.