She breathes, with an outlandish prep gathered blissfully amid her fashioned-from-fabric step

This treasured city will sit with her, every other wonderfully constructed day – by the break of a crackling, once shrouded by clouds dawn

She yawns of an evening, tempestuously between this vigorous need for utter beauty to enrapture then capture aforementioned sitting pretty city

Of justifiably hers – hot on Lou Boutin high-heels, prepare to steal the entirely upward-‘curved’ procedure-list
Realism

She’s a prone-to-be eye-watering, tongue twisting and tangling beauty of her bone-dry own

Magnificent and about to free herself downright over-indulgent, to sky-rocket above aided by magically, fair insistently beyond

These enraptured, glaring-windowed sky-scraper buildings of dutifully aligned hers
Again…
Beautiful

And then,
That red Converse shoe-wearing insatiable a.m. arrives in fruition, instigated by her

Wherein any luck man who lies jaw-dropped to one side, utterly mesmerised by her insatiable choosing of him, has been placed in a blindingly binding spell

He is, however, outrageously, rather romantically enraptured by it all and happy to fall for her curtailed attitude – be ridiculously rude not to dip an unknowing toe… and he knows it only too well

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