Mia

She walks on seashells

And she sings like a siren.

Hair as glorious as the ocean waves themselves,

May tangle you into a dream pit.

Hands so delicate,

Not even the most sensitive infant would whimper in her arms.

Her skin as supple as velvet.

Crimson lips, so pouty,

Full enough to make Aphrodite cry.

Eyes like diamonds,

They burn brighter than the sun.

Legs that could stretch from ocean to ocean.

But even as heavenly as she is, no one is perfect.

She still cries when the moon is highest.

She’s tired of constantly being happy.

She feigns ignorance.

She gets hurt.

She’s just a human.

She’s Mia.