Paradoxtrix 1.

From the first time that I met her,
I figured from her style,
that she was born and bred
in a furnace of the wild,
a troubled but healthy spirit,
fashioned in the image of a child,
a fledgling sort of entity,
with an orchestrated smile.

Her face bespoke the zodiac,
twelve signs in conjunction,
components of the elements
in fierce competition,
a galaxy unto herself -
and dare I to mention,
a goddess of sheer pulchritude,
demanding strict attention.

Her hair was flaming balls of fire,
cascading down her shoulders,
the movement of her bedroom eyes,
were horizontal shutters,
though her head was held majestically high,
her feet were mired in gutters,
depression and low self-esteem,
were the weight of massive boulders.