She wore clever carets and had a lavish diet of airfare and fizz. She wore rabbit and never mink. There was a dislocated look to how she felt about paparazzi, but loved the word in itself. There was a different kind of peculiar to her and people tried to bottle it up and sell it for decades. It was unattainable. For her passion was inconsistent and her love was off the cuff. She derailed herself when falling in love and always lost herself to a stiff drink. Her voice melodic and loopy after a glass of wine. She looked her best with tainted lips and sleepy eyes, and her hair always looked better when she didn't try.
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