She

She smiles broad, the slight dimple indents her cheek beneath her eye.
She looks down ‘cross the floor, with a blunt but undeniable laugh - as if at something that didn’t suit her interest, although she made the person feel significant.
Her tight infabricated chocolate curls cascade, framing her face with one long spiral jumping out among the others.
She stands and glances among the room she is occupying, analyzing with an unjudging auburn eye.
She always does love to express the smile, though troubled in ways. I always could hear her say, “What’s life without laughter, even if you can see the pain?” even though she never in reality spoke those words to me. Our friendship stands weathered among the rest, but has been a withstander from hellish winds and fires in which most crumble at the sense. Trust me, I can imagine her voice saying just about anything inside my mind.
She gives you advice from the heart. You can hear it coming from the depths within, and filtering outwards to your ears without a care in the universe. It comes natural to give, even if she does not notice her most empowering consolation.
Her emotions she keeps locked within the vault stored away, though I may see them freely. I’ve the key, as well as a few others hand selected by her. Those of which withholding it may open it whenever they wish and look in upon the ocean.
She’s mysterious, secretive and kept to herself to some, but outgoing, charismatic, talkative and the most fun inducing person to others.
She always has you guessing, she is not predictable in any way unless you fully know and understand the rigor of her tricks and nonsense.
Nonetheless, it’s nearing impossible to reach that status with her, but keep on keeping on.
Always keep your mind open wide, alert and prepared for you might just miss her.