Tonight I couldn’t find her, she had vanished underneath layers of makeup. Her eyes were framed by black feathers. And her lips were melted passion of wild berries.
Only when I accidentally touched her did I notice her presence, I found her because her skin never changes, it cannot lie. Her soft skin wrapping her soul, a soul speaking the truth her eyes hide, saying the words her lips confine.
I found her and held her hand. I could not see her, but I could feel what her soul was shouting. And it gave me goosebumps. Because I had never touched a more sincere skin than hers.
«Love me». I could feel those words through every single pore. In vain I tried to find her eyes, they were unfathomable. It was hopeless to reach her lips, they would keep vanishing in a storm of deep red.
«How do you want me to love you, if I cannot find you?», I eventually asked her. And then, like a ghost, she released my hand and I lost contact with her skin. I lost her, she was gone. And I knew I would never find her again, because she didn’t want to be found, because she’d rather be a ghost lingering on men’s skins and thoughts, than a real person.