Confused


He’s tall, dark, handsome.
He has these eyes; eyes that’ve seen.
No, not seen...understood.
His brow furrows when he talks.
He speaks in a waltz;
his words flow like music.
Everything he says is delicate.
He’s careful, thoughtful.
I wonder if he knows how beautiful he is.
I can picture his hands.
His large, calloused, hands.
I can picture them wrapped around me,
lips against mine, hearts beating as one.

She’s short, but do not let that fool you.
She can twist heartstrings with her gaze.
Her eyes, oh, her eyes. Bright blue, but fiery.
There’s a flame that cannot be dimmed.
Her brow raises when she talks.
She speaks in 5/4 time, keeps you hanging word after word.
She’s driven by feeling, by passion.
She’s unexpected and wild, determined and strong.
I wonder if she thinks I’m beautiful.
I can picture her hands. Her soft, nimble, hands.
I can picture them wrapped around me,
lips against mine, hearts beating as one.

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