She had that beauty of which only the losers are capable of. And the clarity of weak things. And loneliness, perfect, of what has been lost. She was one of those people who make this world a place worth visiting.
Me spellbound at her. She knew to like and she liked. She had that beauty which is impossible to look away, the immense beauty that makes you afraid, cringe. She looked like a goddess, one of those Greek gorgeous.
Whenever I obstinated me on a different particular, a mole, a shade of the eyes, an expression. She always noticed, or nearly so, and smiled. -Why are you looking at me? - Because she was the most charming creature I had ever seen.
Her eyes had the power to make me mad. They did not touched me, but when they looked at me they digging in, the soul. I looked at her and smiled. Her smiles, I could write a book about her smiles, from the most sad and melancholy, to those sounds, so rare, that filled me with happiness. Her laugh. Lovely.
I kissed her with eyes a million times and I never told her that I would stay hours watching her eyes, hours to kiss her lips, hours to hear her voice.
I looked at her and she smiled.
