| I stare across the
room and see her. She does not glance at me; her attention is
elsewhere. But my eyes remain ever locked on her stunning, perfect
beauty. She isn’t smiling, but I sense such a joy in her eyes. Or,
perhaps it is a reflection of my own happiness — the pleasure of
being able to gaze at her tender form. So I stare on. My eyes follow
every perfect curve of her body. I memorize every contour. Her
flawless form becomes ingrained in my mind. Still she looks
elsewhere. Her mind clearly far from my own, she gazes onward.
Then, I am shaken from my trance as she begins to move. I turn away.
But, like some bittersweet narcotic, I find myself helplessly
turning back to once again gaze at her. Her hand passes through her
hair, and I am struck with awe as her motion sings a song through
the air. And the song, like some siren’s tune, enchants me until I
can no longer stand to be without it.
She begins to turn her head toward me, and I find myself trying
to turn away. Yet, despite all my strength, I cannot. I stare
onward, still capturing her on the canvas of my mind. With every
fiber of my might, I try to break the spell that she has me under,
but it is to no avail. Then — to my horror, my joy, my surprise — I
fall deep into her eyes, her heart-felt soul-filled eyes. I shudder
to think of her reaction to my stare. I imagine a frown of anger, a
look of violation, a tender smile. Which will she do? |