In the light puffs of Marlboro which dissipate in air, you appear as sassy as you could. Deep down in those serene and pleasantly happy eyes, you tread along silently those hilly roads, which are the home to your heart.. Your heart is as pink as the highest Rhododendron flower and as tender as the Litchi , without the coarse covering of the fruit.
Your insides are as white as the snow, standing tall like the mountains, your tallness is humble before the mountains. There’s a distinct ring in your voice, deep not hoarse breaking open like valley of flowers, inviting attention of shallows and deeps alike.. What you choose or appear to like is though as hidden as behind the clouds.. Much of you is fairly visible as simply clear water flowing down the valley through hills, noiseless. But certainly, you’re not as plain as vanilla for sure.
The beauty you behold is curvaceous, contemporary of the far west, like the low hanging doors and balconies with elegant intricacies of architecture.. Your beauty is not obviously superfluous, it falls down beautifully like the rain from windows high in the sky, collected up in a crimson saucer with a tinge of Old monk… There could be unending ways in which a person can be described.. but you in your complete entity are an expression of the mountains, to which you belong of which there’s no escape.. For once , no one having a depth like the valleys in your mind entering would have an escape.❤️