Her hair’s so fucking pink that it all but demands a person’s attention, but I guess it goes really well with the vibe she’s got going ‘round for herself. Her olive skin is a physical sin wrapped around her willowy body; the way she shifts against my perusal makes my veins burn. She’s got a mole just below her slightly hollowed left cheek, and a noticeable indent just above her top lip. I meet her eyes – so dark they threaten to suck me into their abyss – and realize that I’ve never been more gravitated towards anything in my life than I am to her. Cignette Adler exudes wild beauty, and I’ll
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