She smelled of flowers and sweat and she was beautiful. Her jaw was hard set and locked in determination. Her eyes were wide with wonder, because the moon lived inside of them, and the stars caught fire in her palms. She was quiet but her silence was fierce, crackling like the dying embers under a pitch black sky. Her words churned your soul like the angry sea during a purple storm, threatening to engulf you- nothing but a small vessel- into darkness. Her glare stroke fear into the hearts of grown men and passion in young women. She was a nebula disguised as one of us, and nothing gave her away except one thing-
her thirst to be more.