She’s perfect to me.
I stare at her for hours as she brushes her hair while singing jazz music that plays smoothly on her gramophone-designed radio. It’s become a ritual I’ve timed my days around so I can witness her engulf herself in her own saxophone performance in her hair brush. There are so many quirks I like about her. I like the way her nose twitches like a bunny exactly five seconds before she sneezes. I adore the way she interchanges her Z’s and S’s as her own quirky way of being cute. I’m enamored by how her tongue visits the corners of her mouth whenever she’s deep in thought.
She’s so careful yet intense.
I want to pick her brain but it feels like I know her well enough already. Her being is something I can never fathom; she’s a fantasy to get lost in forever.
I can’t wait to watch her again.