The person she loved had an unusual name...a beautiful name. The name was wrought in iron candy and peeling back its layers, the name revealed itself as a beautiful conflomeration of letters which were bound together with porcelain glue.
This name had something precious to offer her. This name was selectively plastered on her lips, until all she remembered was him. All she remembered was herself floating over him as a muse, juxtaposed alongside his warmth, her heart nimbling along in a valiant attempt to own his love.
This name was tender warmth floating on an apparition-like surface, wound around her throat and voice, curled up like a kitten on her couch, curled up with the ferocity of a cat unwinding a ball of wool, single-mindedly myopic in its vision.
This name was raw, epheremal desire couched in the suburban langauge of sweet passion and hot coffee, caramel chocolate tarts and melting blueberry cheesecake, soft and warm, warm and soft, ginger-hued and fetal-positioned.
This name was painted and daintily splashed across her skin, just like the sunrays touched her soul with their lingering light on an early morning. This name was drenched in colours pastel and blue, demure and bright.
This name was sweetly sublime, cooly apt, and wound around her frame until she hurt with its intensity.