As I stepped into hers, it was love at first sight. I fell hard. Fetching, classy, majestic, bigger-than-life. Electric. Acoustic. A steely yet warm pulse that I could feel and see flowed down her busy streets. Steeped in tradition yet unapologetically edgy and modern; classically gorgeous and unashamed of her salacious side.
To peek into her closet would be to find her favorite mahogany mink, a string of the rarest pearls, and four-inch stilettos.
She always wants to do something; to show me something. Once in a while it’s garish, but most of it high-minded, vibrant, creative. Her sensory fingerprint is much like her canals; right when you think it could to be too much, she somehow keeps things on the good side of overflow.
She looked back at me as if she could have me if she wanted, but hadn’t yet decided. It was hard for me to play it as cool.
Yup, sweet Jesus, she’s going to break my heart.