My Dark Angel

She was always running up to me. Her step filled with energy and bounce. Behind her the lockers were a blur. Her beautiful hazel eyes and rebel smile accented her angel-like face, boring into my soul with such softness only she could radiate. She would always say, “I love you,” as she leapt at me. I could grab onto her and feel her loving embrace. I can always remember how she made me feel, her soft touch running through my hair, her warm breath inches away from me.

Her silky smooth hair running down her shoulders only so slightly caressed me. She always wore dark clothing, accents of a dark skirt, black shirt tight to her body providing some enjoyment of her beauty. Her dark jewelry accenting her black shirt, she was as though a child of the night. She always had a caring, and inviting melodic voice. It absorbed me and transformed me into a happier person. Even though her dark outlook was there, her kind heart was hidden below as strong as ever.  I always felt so much better around her, almost like she was an angel.

I always saw her with a bunch of friends, loudly laughing with them in the school cafeteria. Of course, faced off with her enemies she was like a cobra preparing to strike. Her atmosphere could break into a dark frenzy and her words could be like wire cutting the flesh of her victim. Only my kisses could break her out of such a violent trance.  At home, at the rare times I was allowed to visit, she would be preparing lunch for her three little sisters and a friend who seemed to live there.  She manipulated her work with such grace and carefulness as though she was a conductor of an orchestra. Her moves were pristine and well done.  I would always ask to lend a hand; she’d kindly decline and ask me to take a seat as she fetched me a glass of her homemade sweet tea. She was always so nice. However, just like all little sisters they bickered constantly, only providing me some entertainment. I can remember the days she headed to the library, wondering around looking though the selections for something that could catch her eye. Of course, she had moods. She could be having a bad day and she could be a little mean.

I always knew that it would be worth school that day. All the drama and atmosphere of that school was nothing compared to its prize. Just to have that beautiful woman embrace me. Her touch on my skin filled me with such emotion. I constantly thought of her beautiful hazel eyes wishing I could gaze into them all day long, listen to her calm voice that put me in a love coma. I always think before I go to sleep about that beautiful night child I fell in love with, missing the atmosphere she provided me.  She’s amazing.

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