She is a walking juxtaposition
She is a walking juxtaposition:
Amicable qualities dressed in futility, far-fetched pictorial in a living illustration, painstakingly carefree—a telltale tribulation.
Ambivalence irks aptitude.
Foreshadowing scurries in a frenetic gambit, a stratagem of the devil himself.
This oddity is a fleck, resurgent in its nature—a drop of dew, a grain of sand.
Do all you must to bait her,
debate her.
Commotion, admonish, plaudit.
The audacity of her tacit agreements.
Such abysmal fervor could be the making of a luminary.
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