It only takes a
moment when it happens.
you might blink,
or take a little too long to get yourself straight
one day.
It’ll just take
one
one day and the
rest of your life, however short, however complicated, however tragic
one day, thats
it.
his one day
came on that day.
it took less
than a moment
later on he
would wonder if he knew even before he set his curious eyes on her, he
would ponder the
idea of just knowing, of something being so clear and right somewhere
deep inside your
core that you just knew
he would mull
over the word ‘soulmates’ thinking it fell short for him and her
thinking that
something about the blue eyes that rose from behind the glossy frames of
her bright blue
glasses was so familiar that they couldn’t have been strangers.
she wasn’t
pretty
no
she was art
she was
beautiful, sure, wrapped up tight into a black dress that looked more like a
second
skin than an
actual dress, red plastic cup clutched in a hand of chipped yellow nail polish
and
rings, laughing,
dancing.
but art is more
than just that, she was more than just that
art makes you
feel something, art stirs something deep in your stomach, something a lot like
awe. she was art, the best kind of art
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