..ahm, just a random post - this community is far to young to die..
She looks at them as they watch her - the goddess of beauty, with orchids in her hair, and sand upon her feet - conjuring up uncensored thoughts via dirty minds - placing her in velvety pink stilettos and edible licorice lace. She always passed by these silly boys, with their simple thoughts - almost so often it's became her favorite daily mundane occurrence. One, Two..occasionally the count would be lost, but it was never held to critical to begin with. Despite the amount, none of them were ever measurable to him. His eye never looked upon her with emotionless seduction - but with unrestrained love - placing her in fields of luscious lilies, and in gowns the shade of mother earth. His lips tasted of sweet raspberry sunsets, melting her heart into a creamy puddle with but a single kiss. He was the golden god of the sun - graced with the ability to dance upon the waves, and ignite a room with his mere presence. Her endless idolization for him might have been the most pathetic aspect of this tragically exotic creature - wrought by her own inability to let go of lost love. So the moons would continue to pass, and men with drooling eyes would repeat their immodest gawking, to receive but a cold reply. One day when his image has faded from her memory, perhaps she may look back upon time spent and squandered, upon fairy tale thoughts and unfeasible dreams, to the people she could have met, views and words that might have been shared - and would she regret not moving on earlier? Perhaps..
Then again, she was never too fond of pink stilettos anyway..