kalischild

She.
She is fierce
She asks questions.
She wears little half-gloves
She has good tattoos
She bites, sweats, and screams during sex
She has a Texan accent
Her eyes are huge, so brown they are almost black
She loves Yeats and hates Nietszche
Shes got a kung-fu star as a bodyguard.
She is small and pale
She reads.
She drag-races cholos at stoplights.
She laughs out loud.
She plays with knives.
She can weld.
Her room is dark, with velvet hangings and dried roses
Given the opportunity, she would cheerfully beat up Sylvia Plath
She the softest lips.
She is wicked.
She leaves presents
She is not afraid, but sometimes she feels small.
She has an old leather jacket
After a week in the desert shed kill for a steak. And has.
She drinks wine and whisky
She does not chase, or run. She dances.
Her absence is why Im dying.
She is why Im still alive.
She will find me,
Someday.