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The Lucky One
I feel the SWOOSH of her powerful wings splash my face. She is is a goddess, so impetuous, so agile, so beautiful, This is her element, her haven. I am in awe of her anatomy, a curve here, a bulge there, and I love her, with a burning passion. She is the entity that keeps me up at night, the thought that she exists is mind blowing, I feel as though I live in a world with dragons and faeries.
When I dream, it is of her, the way she dictates all to her will. She fills my cavernous embodiment with heartbreak and love concurrently. I used to visualize her with such envy, thinking she was the luckiest being alive, but after a volume of reflection, I have recognized who the lucky one really is,
I am the lucky one, to live on this star called earth, where artistry such as this should subsist.
Suddenly, it’s over, as briskly as she materialized, she disappeared in a surge of bewilderment, as my little brother bumbles in screaming.
“Why were you staring at a stupid fly?” he inquires as if I am an incompetent child.
“She’s phenomenal,” I reply dumbfoundedly.
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