Transition of rain.

She loved to dance. It looked as though she was trying to trick her shadow to hide herself in such a graceful manner, to where each jist of air fell slowly on your skin like rose petals...

I call that goosebumps.

Her eyes once caught mine...not a moment before or after felt the same. She drives me insane how she stays in my brain.

I call that mesmerizing.

Her skin once touched mine and it felt like I was drowning inside myself, as if she was me and we were one...

I call that soulful.

Her voice... Oh what a sweet wonder of analytical thoughts when she speaks to me. As if she had the devil on one shoulder and an angel on another.

I call that alluring.

Who is she ?

She is poetry.

Just picture her as your lover.