She is

She
A diminutive young female stood within the doorway. She held herself with a stature of perfection, her feminine fingers on her small hand combing her hair aside, grouping it from right to left, her radiant white tresses falling perfectly in place. She wore humble bleached jeans, embracing her small form, and a tank top as white as her hair. When she completed redistributing her hair, she inhaled, gliding nimbly into the room creating a sense of awe, and splendor. She graced the inferior around her like a strong summer breeze. Steadily walking with an inimitable step, she continued into the room, her walk and appearance capable of stealing the breath from any soul whom turns their head toward the spot in which she resides. If people were stars, just the shine alone coming from her would slowly turn every other into holes in the universe collapsing their gravity upon themselves. There was a lightness in her manner, a bliss so profound that all stopped to smile at life when she entered their presence. The words that come from her supple, pink lips, left with a sound enchanting to the ears like candy to the mouth, her opinions perfectly argued whether it be on politics or love. This was the dream woman, a goddess in herself, Jacky. Her soft face was ageless. Whether she be thirty-five or fifty, her bright green analyzing eyes showed wisdom far past her years. She more than heard what others said, she listened. The words and tones protruding from her mouth implying deepness, and an understanding far greater than common thought. Her posture, from shoulders to the soles of her feet, was nimble, straight, and lean, as a skilled dancer.





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