I prefer watching you from a distance, where you cannot see me or read my mind.
Your piercing gaze bothers me; the way it almost conjures my deepest thoughts to mirror in my expressions.
I’m grateful that your attention is upon her…
That way I can openly analyse you without fearing getting caught during my inspection.
I tell myself that you’re the pleasant pastime meant to distract me from morbid thoughts and serving as a vitamin to the feminine eye…
I grow addicted to your presence and it worries me that I begin to look forward to those few hours in which I may get a glimpse of you.
Relief that the position I found myself in that hadn’t been caused by own hand, soon faded as I realised that I was nonetheless in a situation where my cheeks threatened to give away my rising emotions and that you’d see that your magical affect works on me.
Too close for comfort… not close enough.
It amuses me that you haven’t yet seen past my youthful energy. You stare at me as if I’m a girl who has yet to learn and often I wonder if I shouldn’t remind you that there’s more to what the eye can see… Would it surprise you to find a woman underneath?… with a fertile imagination, desires and the courage to act upon them. Dig further and you might just reach the heart…
Sometimes I’m tempted to give you a glimpse, to show you how deep my soul goes… but that would be letting you in too close…
I vaguely recall you saying something about a smoking (we call that a tux!)
I confess that I was somewhere lost in your blue eyes, distracted by the scent of you while both praising and cursing you for standing so close to me.
Any closer and I’d be tempted to touch you… to feel if the warmth of your smile matched the heart in your veins, to feel the texture of you arm and then move my fingers up to your face… to trace those lips, how would they react to my kiss?
The closer you stand to me, the more self control I’m forced to summon.
Sweet torture it is to have you around when I’m supposed to be making serious decisions! You must regard my hesitation as inexperience… I wonder how you’d react if you knew that you provoke the muddle up of thoughts.
If you knew what I’ll never dare tell you,
You’d understand what I myself can’t make sense of.
We part ways with a smile…
You think me to be sweet and innocent…
And I thank God that only angels read my thoughts!
I save a grin for my angels who all too well knows how creative my mind can get and sigh with relief that you’re not close enough to see a mirror of the thoughts behind my eyes.