shojo

Sapir and Whorf would be proud of me, if they weren't so, you know, dead. There's no one word to describe her, it's not in the English language to describe her, not to my knowledge at least.

She is hypnotically beautiful, the kind of beautiful you'll find yourself staring at for days without noticing until she gives you the kind of look reserved for those who forgot to wear their pants out into public.

The dance floor is unmistakably hers. It's evident in the way the crowd parts as she slowly and methodically steps into the crowd. Anybody at Death Guild's anniversary last night in San Francisco can attest to that.

But there's no infatuation, not on my part, and assuredly not on hers either. But is this because I simply don't allow myself to feel those kind of emotions anymore? Or is it less complex?

Note: This is the last time I'll be this open.