Here she exists.
Perfectly unique,
Inhumanly perfect.

The classroom sits-
She draws.
All throughout math class while I sit in awe and watch
The pencils come alive within her touch
To dance upon the parchment in a swift, sensuous waltz
With long fingers as delicate as the figures she conjures up.
She forever draws.

The bell sings-
She runs.
Powerfully strong legs making her fly,
Fly and jump and pounce and climb.
Like a hummingbird mixed with wild feline.
She races with competitive energy.
Sprints with a spirit of carefree,
The rush filled with such ecstasy
Between each step is a gliding leap.
She runs from captivity.

Among her friends-
She fights.
Skills of martial arts formed well throughout years.
She twirls,
She hops,
She strikes,
She stomps.
All in a recital of blows and blocks.
Talented enough to keep onlookers fearful and anticipating.
She fights mesmerizingly.

Eventually she settles-
And she reads.
With comical tones of high squeaks,
With low monotonous voices of lulling.
With pain and happiness,
Hope and helplessness.
She moves her body and face with her words.
Becoming each character,
At home in the pages’ world.
She is eager,
Scared,
Caged and free.
Whatever the book commands she will be.
Escaping reality, she reads.
Simply standing there-
She holds beauty.
Despite whatever mood may hold her.
Whether smiling,
Whether pouting,
Whether giddy,
Calm,
Vexed,
Or melancholy.
She will never believe it.
Maybe not everyone can see it.
But I know the truth;
The passion, mind and innocence,
All hidden behind a mask of normalcy.
She unknowingly holds beauty.

And so-
Here she exists.
Perfectly unique,
Inhumanly perfect.
In all her glory,
Destined to leave a legacy.
Here is the girl that I have always envied.