Painted silhouette

by Alanis   Dec 27, 2014

Essence, sweet vanilla essence. Oh how it reminded me of you and your insane imperfections that danced across the walls like shadows dipped in espionage and flavoured with secrecy. Your hair danced around like confused creatures of habit, they twisted tangled like beings at war but yet it was delicate, seductive and breathtaking all at once. She was smooth like a storm yet her soul wild like the raging flames of a raging fire, consuming all in its path with a passion like intensity. Her eyes were cold like ice and as warm as a summers day. They were the kind of eyes that could build you and tear u apart in an instant but you knew she wouldn't hurt you with those looking utensils if obscurity. Her voice was like an ocean, words rolling fluently like waves and crushing against me like a shore. They were like water to my staving soul, like food for my aching heart. She knew your heart like a supernatural being yet she was no more than a plain. She smelt like autumn, combinations or sweet vanilla and potent cinnamon, yet it fitted her and her defiant nature. Her skin was soft like a rose petal and as white and delicate as a cloud. Pure and spotless, flawless. She was a timeless sight. A painted silhouette.


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  • 6 years ago

    by Lostlove1

    I adore this poem! But there are a few typos I believe:

    Yet she was no more than a plain. A plain what?

    Yet it fitted her..should this not be fit instead of fitted?

    Utensils IF insecurites - of?

    And where you put U maybe to spell it out instead...

    This is a stunning write worth the read!