Her name is Delilah

Her skin looks so sweet...

Like she was dunked in milk chocolate and covered with a touch of honey

Smooth and glossy as she rubs the cocoa margarine and normal spices on her sunkissed skin.

She scents of opportunity and vibrance

Her magnificence is so blinding but then she is dealt with like a confined creature, a grandstand.

Her knowledge is outstanding...a lady of numerous degrees

Nobody figures out her lifestyle, her approach to importance, and her affection for words.

Her defensive layer justifies itself with real evidence

For what reason does she need to be anchored to the persecuted...

In this intense intensity of June, culling the cotton from the difficult thistles cautious not to draw in any consideration from the administrators.

She murmurs a delicate tune to herself as the breeze blows the orange and earthy colored leaves in the field

Is this the assumption for magnificence? The regular world?

No this is life...my life.