Friday, June 29, 2007

Her

So I'm sitting at the airport waiting for my flight.
I have my headphones on...
then she comes and sits across from me...

I'm sitting right across from you,
you'd slap my face if you only knew,
but you don't know I make advances,
through the rims of my dark sun glasses...

I don't know anything about ladies shoes,
I only know that they accentuate your skin tone...

You can't see my eyes dear,
that's why you don't even care,
that I'm scoping out your masses,
through the rims of my dark sun glasses...

I turn my head slightly to appear as if I'm staring far off...
Your legs are beautiful and shapely,
and as you cross your legs,
you let one shoe slide off your foot a bit...
I am no longer myself...

You can't tell I look at you,
because my eyes don't show through,
looking hard and making passes...
through the rims...
of my dark sun glasses...

I move up over your body,
admiring your curves and features...
Your lips are maddeningly beautiful,
I am lost...

On the downtown streets on Saturday,
at the theaters after matinee,
I check out all the lovely lasses,
through the rims of my dark sun glasses...

As you get up to leave,
your presence stays...

It is a ghost,
and it torments me...