Her.

Wow, so that right there was definitely incredible. When it comes into my mind to think of unadultered beauty, I just found it. All it took was a woman, flowers, and some pointe shoes. A woman who used to live for dancing. Her normal outfit and those cream-colored pointe shoes. In the course of this year I have come very strongly to adore this woman's body. Her pose is absolutely perfect in the picture. It's not just the way she is sitting either...there is something in her face. It's not so much a smile as it is her looking back upon her past memories in those pointe shoes...with those flowers... Back to when she used to grace the stage and hundreds looked at her beauty through her movements. Hmmm...maybe it is just me, but I definitely don't see her moving as subtly as a dancer would anymore. By that, I mean that she definitely isn't all over the place when she walks, she just doesn't make real soft and slow movements, like the prelude to a kiss. But her facial expressions...her eyes...they all point back to a day where she would be making these subtle movements just to see if people would notice...or maybe she hasn't expected anybody to look close enough at her and analyze her to wonder when she would make said movements. Hmm, maybe when she reads this she will subconsciously make subtle movements, where even a watchful eye will be surprised when she inches her way in for an intimate distance.  Everything her body language is expressing points to those movements, those subtle movements, those shoes, those flowers...her past...a dancer. A beautiful dancer. My beautiful dancer now...although she doesn't dance much anymore, I want to see her dance. I long to see her dance. My dancer. My beautiful dancer.
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