They call her candy queen, but she’s infinitely sweeter. They call her a cowgirl, but for a wild western soul, she’s as shy as a mare. Many know her name, yet few know who she really is.
Who is she.
She is the real definition of interest. Unknowingly flirty, quick on intimacy, I can feel vibes of excitement every time I hear her name.
Yet who she is is another matter entirely. Regardless of the version of it, you’ve seen her before. Creamy caramel colored, pretty smile, wondrous eyes and a walk that tells of heavy burdens that she carries inside.
What is it you’re thinking?
Baby girl, let me pick your brain, show you that regardless of the level that you believe you see, the intimacy is real and the intuition is more so.
Tell her how you feel. How can I? Mere mortals barely speak to goddesses, they barely even speak to each other, so how am I supposed to talk to her?. So I say hi. And her voice, oh the voice that’s as mellifluous as that of legends. She was the awakening of me, the wondering of my being, the constant thoughts on a rainy day to keep me content, keep me committed. She is my love in my head, yet I don’t know how she feels in hers.
A torrent of emotion is what she is, but so are the rest of us, all she needs is a shoulder to cry on, a shoulder to stand by when times get tough and a shoulder to lean on when all’s said and done and the weary may now rest. I can be that shoulder, I can be that person who put’s the pep back in the cowgirl’s two step.
But only if allowed.
And so we talked and we chatted and we spoke indirectly, but then we finally had the realization. We were meant for each other in the first place, all that was blind may now see and all I see is you, the wandering angel locked out of heaven.
Hear the words of the master, shy kitty, come with me, for all you need is attention, and I can provide more than your fair share, but anything is fit for those as keen as you. You can be my love, and I can be yours. I can be your king, and you my counterpart as queen. You can confide your troubles in me when needed and I’ll listen without a whisper, cry on my shoulder, it shall be ever dry for you. Your emotion shall be mine and I shall do all to comfort you in your times of rage or downpour and lift you even higher in happier times.
In other words, we shall become the two in a million that are the two of a kind, two hearts stacked in the deck of cards, faced face-to-face, speaking the words few hear and showing the vibes that even fewer reach.
Newfound love.

-The Poetic Justice