The Gypsy

She is a gypsy.

She wanders. She might let you be hers. She might just not.

She may use your help, or help you a little.

But staying with you isn’t her option.

She is a gypsy.

If an artist is to his art as a mother is to her child, she is to us weaker beings, except tough love is her forte.

She might love you, she might hate you, but she WILL come to you.

She knows how to show you a good time. She knows how to not.

The two sides of a coin have her as an inspiration.

She doesn’t have a bucket list. She lives in the moment. And enjoys it.

She likes to think she’s omnipresent and just maybe she even is.

She is a gypsy.

Yes. I am entirely convinced Time is a gypsy.

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