It's like getting hit by a lightning bolt everytime you see her...in the best possible way.
She stands out like a silent angel in a swap meet of jabbering idiots.
She's been through hell, yet she's carried on her feet like a holy ghost.

Her name is something new.
In a paper-cut world with the finesse of a blank page, she burns my doubts of the existance of the supernatural to ash and embers before she even says a word.

Then she speaks.

Every sentence seemingly copied from the story of your life, and you listen, drinking each word as if it were poison you had developed a resistance to, and now drank like fine wine...
Force fed downers for so long, you finally realize that beauty's true form stands before you.
And she's so, so much like you.

The drugs begin to take effect.

Turning around briefly, you beam to the heavens you never believed in.
You have a reason now. You're high.
You've flown farther than any chemical outside could carry you.
Higher than space. Faster than time. Deeper than black.

When she smiles, her eyes could kill your demons.
When she's in pain, her tears could baptize a saint in a new light.
Hallowed in your eyes, you ponder whether she has this effect on everyone.

Before you know it, she's walking away.
The clouds return, only to depart whenever we will meet next.

I honestly don't care that she's perfect and I'm not.
I have seen radiance. I have seen poetry.
I have seen definitive grace.