Phenomenal Woman
A story inspired by an old poem.
She walks across the streets with an air of arrogance. Her legs move with precision, every step on those high heeled shoes is made with confidence. She oozes sensuality, almost pure sex; though at the same time you know you will never, ever, have a chance. She walks the streets like a goddess, unreachable. Girls turn their faces, watch her, disapprove her, envy her. They will never be her.
For some reason, she stops and turns her face. The sun dares only to gently kiss her perfect cheeks, the wind only to slightly sing through her long, perfect hair. The world stands still. For one moment, you only see her perfection, the wind through her hair, the sun on her face. Her diamond eyes look around, pause exactly when they meet your eyes, and your heart stands still. It cries for such beauty, that should be forbidden in this world. And then her eyes move on to the sky; leaving your heart bleeding and empty.
She starts walking again.
You will never, ever, have her.
She walks across the streets with an air of arrogance. Her legs move with precision, every step on those high heeled shoes is made with confidence. She oozes sensuality, almost pure sex; though at the same time you know you will never, ever, have a chance. She walks the streets like a goddess, unreachable. Girls turn their faces, watch her, disapprove her, envy her. They will never be her.
For some reason, she stops and turns her face. The sun dares only to gently kiss her perfect cheeks, the wind only to slightly sing through her long, perfect hair. The world stands still. For one moment, you only see her perfection, the wind through her hair, the sun on her face. Her diamond eyes look around, pause exactly when they meet your eyes, and your heart stands still. It cries for such beauty, that should be forbidden in this world. And then her eyes move on to the sky; leaving your heart bleeding and empty.
She starts walking again.
You will never, ever, have her.
17 apr 2009 - bewerkt op 17 apr 2009
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