My Type of Woman She stands firm,wearing a scary frown on her face, her eyes brewing fire whilst her mouth spits magma. Standing tall, carrying the weight of the world in her shoulders proud to be a woman... Just can't help but scream that she is my type of woman. Beauty is her defination, her mind as sharp as a needle ready to prick what ever is on its way, her smile, an assasin to my respiratory system but her word distinguish her. Her body fashioned to pull me closer to her instead her self~confidence forces me to let out a small scream yelling that, DAMN! she is my type of woman. An eleqount speaker she is, striding up a mountain with honey oozing out of her mouth as she fends for her wellbeing inflicting confusion in my mind as she does everything according to her uniqueness. A despiser of mediocrity who relies only on herself. A philosopher by nature,therapists by calling she delivers those around her with her angelic courage which seeks to extinguish any demonic fo...
a novel in the making