I am in red. A red dress curved around my body, match my high-hill red sandals, while my shoulders are covered by a red jacket, matching my red lipstick. I walk delicately between the rooms, leaving a sweet and sorrow taste of my perfume behind me, while people smile and dogs shook their tails at my appearance. I receive the admiration compliments from women and the sexual desire from men with a delicate smile on my face. I know that I am beautiful, playful and intriguing. I have the million dollar look and a two million dollars smile. I am fabulous, I know it, I feel it and it does not move me. Not even an inch.
You are there. You are sitting at your desk miles away, in another time zone, with other people surrounding you, with other needs and expectations, with other plans and thoughts. You are far away, unreachable and unavailable, sleeping when I wake up and active when I go to bed. You are the heavy stone pressing on every bone from my fragile, delicate body, you are the second thought that emerges from my mind, you are the one I involuntarily dream about every night. Your my star, but not a shining one.
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