The way she cried wasn’t fancy, it held no charm. It illuminated every trace of beauty in her. It wasn’t poetic as in the way they tell us in books and show us in movies, it’s not rain drops twinkling out of a distant clouded sky.It was rather a mixture of water and soil. It was mud, dirty messy and slippery. I’d look away if I hadn’t loved her. but I do look, blankly with out doing anything, I hate mud!
but then the magic comes and with her I know it always would. the way she dries up pulling her cracked face into a bend smile that crowds all her features enough for her eyes to sink back to her soul. That was weirdly beautiful. A wizardly smile.
and all of sudden I am in love with mud.
wanting to watch that all over again.