She...

She carries herself with a certain degree of finesse and a complete disregard for what the world might say. She smiles beautiful and her eyes sparkle with coquettish joyful flirtation; I get weak in the knees.

It's okay that she doesn't know how to french kiss and id give it up any day for hers, but we do occasionally bitch about the French for inventing something that’s so complicated and unnecessary.  

She’s two extremes in a body, never shy to speak her mind. When I look at her I see a halo and a “Piss me off at your own risk” sign. I have made it my personal mission to trespass.

The world demands that relationships be defined but we like the way we pretend there’s nothing going on between us, like a well kept secret everyone knows.

It’s funny how two broken people can fit so well together, I sometimes feel like we were broken intentionally so that we could fit together.  

So, do I like her? I don’t think I have any say in it.