By sarah iristakeroot@juno.com
Date: 21 October 2000
she
she could walk into a room, and turn any head, be it man or woman. not that she was this striking woman. she was not, rather short in stature, plain in feature, except for her eyes, she had these blue jean eyes that had a feline stare to them. sometimes i expected them to radiate light back at you. she had this grace to her, not a long limbed grace, of full bodied elegance. she walked delicately, with surety. she would grow quiet at times, looking through a room, wondering what to let her eyes rest upon. she seemed to compliment my over exuberance at things, maybe even tame them. it didn't matter if the dance floor was empty, the moment she and i hit it, then the people would come, as if magnetized. she was dressed simply, in ripped jeans a white shirt and faded black vest over the top. she didn't have breasts that defied gravity or hips and ass that said taste me baby. she just was. it didn't matter where we were, or what time it was. within moments of our arriving, men would suddenly reach out for her. trying to get her to come over by them, stick their tongues down her throat. she had an easy way with her laughter, of slightly tilting her head to one said and letting it all out, her hair falling into her face. she had curly hair she couldn't quite tame. if she tried to straighten it within an hour it would be back to its natural unruly state. i was never jealous of this woman, rather fascinated. wondering what charm she seemed to have, or some spell cast over her at her birth. our nights normally ends without any due harm. we leave rather quiet with well wishes, and see you tommorows. and our lives seperate for a few hours. and i wonder of this woman, this easy going woman who has the ability to enchant strangers from rooms away, with her vivid stare. she lets the music move her as well, taking her away to places, we can dance side by side with each other, unaware of where the others is, yet dance together. i wonder if we go to the same place, this woman and i. if she seems to have the secrets at those moments as well, yet she takes something back with her. maybe one day i will ask her, but for now, there is silence. as i study her, and wonder about her, and maybe every so often, dream.
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