She is a little short
maybe a little dumpy
she types 90wpm and
talks much, much faster
and even so she still
can't keep up with me.
Her teeth are a little crooked
her breasts are magnificent
she bubbles like a water cooler
on the hottest say of summer
and she never looks the same
from one moment to the next.
But when she glowed at me
there was never a more beautiful sight
in art or nature
and I learned the hard way
I indeed had a modicum of
self-discipline, and grace.
She sat with her chin stuck forward
and everything changed
first she touched her hair
then she touched her face
the color of her hair,
the color of her face,
and the feel of the room burst
into new translucent colors
and then she carressed her neck.
All fucking hell broke loose
and nothing happened.
She was not of this world.
She was thinking about something
with all of her being...
"But, that would be inappropriate."
...was all she said. A ton
of bricks, which weighs a
whole fuck-of-a-lot more
than a ton of rocks, landed
between my shoulderblades and
I could not breathe or speak.
She turned her face to me,
our eyes met, and we both
are still lost in that thick moment.
Blissfully, brutally, eternally lost.
The largest struggle for
both of these spiritual creatures,
now and forever, is to come to terms
with that meager moment,
the moment of seeing,
of understanding all of love
on all of its levels, being enough.
When it fucking wasn't!
Two wiser, more subdued people
now inhabit this Earth. They know
exactly what they are looking for
and that they are unlikely to even
sniff the ass of such a moment
ever again.
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