Aaloopuri

I have an image of a girl in my head, she's angelic. She's standing right in front of me. Behind her, a humble cathedral- kind of oxymoronic, the sky is clear blue which the cathedral seems to reflect. She's wearing a white shirt and something like a Victorian leather corset. She has let her hair down, it's being caressed by the breeze. She is a spirit as free as a wild mustang. She looks like the young Kaya Scodelario. She looks at me with empty, piercing blue eyes. As though she doesn't care about me. It feels like she has my heart in her hands and she's crushing it with the empty look on her face while she's up in some deep thought. The way you feel when you listen to the Kurt Cobain version of And I Love Her. An inexplicable longing for something non existent. Even if she cares she doesn't show it, she's a rolling stone. I look at her wanting to say something, anything at all, but I'm rendered speechless.