Her shoes.

Tall, long, sturdy heels.
When you walk, you walk with your chest puffed out, a smile - rather a smirk, with an air of complete confidence around you.

That’s how She feels when She walks in them. Strutting past you, giving you a smile, a wink, or a sad pout. Those heels, yes those shoes, they connect to her heart. With these imaginary strings of invisible colours, scents, that don’t exist - But She knows they do.

When She’s seated upon a bench, drenched in the rainy water, staring at those extended feet of hers, wriggling her toes that peep out curiously from her scarlet peep toes… You’ll never know or figure what She’s been thinking. She’s rather secretive about it. There’s something She’s always hiding.

A stumbling walk by the lanes, those heels, rather than the popular belief of stinging her shins, lift her up.. Up, not only by a few centimeters. But up above the clouds.. High in the sky. No, She doesn’t look down, She looks up, eyes fixed afar, on galaxies and stardusts that twinkle only for her eyes.

Those shoes. Those tall, long, heels. They complete her. And She’s thankful to the fact that She has legs.. That She can walk. Crouching down, bringing her knees upto her heart, She encircles her legs with her long thin arms, hugging them close. She’s glad that they make her feel beautiful.

Her legs, her walk, her stride, her shoes.