Devil like me. All up in her dreams and no where to be found. She comes alive at night. The sunset leaves reflections on the walls, dyes the furniture and sinks into the ground.

She rises, sips blood red wine and says her prayers. She covers a blank canvas, she wears a sheer robe. She is magic and mystery, a thing of butterflies. Long blonde hair, and little limb legs. She dances in the night, you follow her with a camera. You document her heart, soul and madness.