Afloat outside the body I linger
To calculate every move I must scold her for,
When I see her in the panel of reflective glass above the marble sink in the morning.
She squanders her words now;
Batters her lashes and smiles awkwardly.
The crooked smile that meant you are on her mind.
Her slender waist slightly exposed to cold, thin air,
Her skirt barely making it to her mile long legs,
Her hips swaying jauntily as she glides to and fro,
The posture, somewhat picture perfect,
But she’s naïve, vulnerable, hopeful, and under your spell.
She’d give anything to be there right next to you,
And you know it don’t you?
She knows you know it too.
But if you could look past her looks it would be a miracle.
She knows that too.
She’ll regret it in the morning; every word she utters now.
But it’s like they slip and slide their way off her tongue
And into the cold, thin air, before she could catch her breath.
She stands there tonight, distraught, shocked and confused.
Amidst all that she said,
She said she loves you.
She didn’t know it either.
She wished she didnt.
But it’s you.
It’s your every move, your every word, your every touch, your very presence.
She couldn’t pull you apart in many ways from other men.
No, not by words.
But she knows that no one will ever know her like you do.
So close, yet so far.
If you would only let her love you.
Foolish girl and her childish dreams.
If she could only see,
You’re just an ordinary man, in an extraordinary world.
But she would give the entire extraordinary world, for the ordinary you.
Because she loves you.
R. A. Douglas