Small smiles, playful flirting, educated souls. You’re not the only one on the list. I know I’m not the only one on yours. But you are beautiful. Red lines dance through your hair with an unspoken confidence and rest on the tip of my tongue. Today’s moment will pass faster than I would hope, but it’s another line of brick and mortar going up.
I feed your friend the same lines that never sound as smooth once it exits my mouth, but my eye still rests on the crook of your nose as you drift past. Give my spring animal a chance to howl and it’s going to be a fun ride.
Your face and figure change with the moon, like my mood, and we begin this dance to nowhere again. It’s too safe here, among the idle chatter beneath too bright fluorescent lights. My god you are beautiful. If I could only say that and let it settle into existence it could be what it is and the world would make more sense. But it’s never been that easy. Not when it matters.
You walk away with a smile that I return and I think of something I should have said thirty seconds too late. We will do this again; call it a dance if you like, but not soon enough.