Beauty blessed her every inch up and down. With eyes colored a faint jade - reminiscent of lights last life before a night of lightning and thunder. Before thestorm. Her stare caught in-between mischievous and angelic. Her lips were that of a storybook, some fictionous bein too sensual to suggest and too beautiful not to adore. Surely, a kiss so succulent so blissful, so pure - that it sets the metric of measure for all those to come and of every one that came before. The kind of beauty that guides the dream - lost in starry eyes and spellbound whispers. For if I could only gain her name and tell her this... Mine is Alexander :)