And what did the angels call her? And which one of them was held responsible? Which of them had the audacity to suggest a creation like her? This spectacle of femininity. This anomaly.
In the morning she stirs and all of God's creatures take notice.
Machine of soft tissues. Bone and sinew that compose something all together brilliant. With a radiance to rival our very own sun.
Each bat of the lashes like the opening salvos of a decades long war.
Lips that, when pursed, cause hairs to stand on end. Startling. That feeling of unintentionally running your fingers through taut cobwebs.
And what did the angels call her? What did they name perfection? Ah yes; [Omitted].
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