Wild as the wind on the Irish, Atlantic coast, but attentive as the dog that chases the ball in the sand and brings it back to its owner.
Chaotic as a night out turned sinister through liquor abuse, but reliable as the sunrise that still rose upon the brokenhearted casualties.
Undecided, like a child in a sweet shop, but enchanted with the taste of that chosen strawberry lollipop all over her lips.
Unpredictable, like an end-of-summer rainstorm, but welcoming, like lashing water to the crops.
A new experience, like being kissed for the first time in high school, but experienced, like a 90-year-old woman combing her lover’s thin, sparse hair every night.
Angry, like a caged bird who hasn’t had its door opened to spread its wings, but incorruptible, like a pigeon who has the whole sky to fly in and still manages to find its way home.
Sexual, like a young, toned, bare-skinned, 20-something male—but sensitive, raw and vulnerable, like a young girl in love for the first time.
Unstoppable, like an athlete trying to make it into the Olympics, but exhausted, like a husband climbing into his wife’s soft arms after a 14-hour workday out in the cold.
Unruly, like an unbrushed mane of curls on a vagabond women, but centered, like the middle point on a compass in the hands of a lost traveler.
Outspoken, like a feminist rights speaker, but timid, like a self-conscious midnight poet.
Informative as the World Wide Web, but underrated like a library.
Broken, like a bruised love, but healed by the power of you.
Wild, but loyal, this one.
Love her—just leave her wild.
Author: Sophie O’Sullivan
Image: Unsplash/Sarah Swinton
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina