I am infatuated with this girl. Her name is Racheal, Racheal Young. She has long black hair, blacker than a starless night, dryer than the sahara desert, straight as me. Her deep-set eyes, like two brown beads, her nose long and slender, her lips, bottom-heavy.
She is so smart, reads more books than some libraries may hold. She has been to Italy and has become a fascist at heart. She reminds me of another girl, Shana. She loves to write, but prefers to burn her poetry into poetic ashes, before prying eyes may see the beauty of her words. She is so strongly willed, so passionate about what she loves, what she stands for, if only someone could be as passionate about death as her. Her sense of humour is often crude like raw oil.
But on a much serious note,
She is a friend I can rely on, well at lest she hasn't failed me yet. She secretly loves how much I care, but she doesn't show it, maybe because she is afraid I will fall in love with her more. She compliments me and tears me down at the same time. She is both simple and complex. I have never felt so differently for someone the way I have felt about Rachael. I think she does like me a tad bit more than she'll admit, because she is a lesbian after all.
I am in love with a lesbian, a smart, witty, kind, observant, beautiful, handsome, wonderful, emotional, lesbian.
With lots of love, (Especially for Racheal)
Ez
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