By Simone Templare st616@hotmail.com
Date: 1 July 1999

Helplessly Infatuated

Your eyes as blue as the Mediterranean Sea, I long to see my reflection
in them . . . but you no longer let me

So soft is your hair that it waivers at the slightest hint
of a breeze.  You occasionally tuck it behind your ears ever
so gently.  I would like to that for you but I am afraid to

Your smile warm and genuine, pleases me
Your frown lines cutting twice deeply when upset,
so alluring and sexy, though you would think otherwise

Your scent so intoxicating.  If I ever were to believe
in aromatherapy, you would be the cure to my heartaches

Your ghostly pale neck and shoulders unkissed by the sun,
so smooth and inviting to my touch.  I particularly love the way
you clasp the base of your neck with one hand, while deep in thought
When you clear your throat ever so often, it sounds like a pigeon cooing
perched outside on a window sill

The way you look at me races my heart.  I turn to you shyly making eye
contact for I know I'll loose myself if I gaze too deeply into them.
I try to form a smile without actually smiling, and you instantly mimic
my facial expression, not smiling but wanting to.
It almost feels as if I have some pseudo-power over you, that is,
only to make you smile

My infatuation for you is turning into an obsession.  I realize this
and fear it, but powerless to stop it though knowing nothing is going to 
happen since you would not let it.  I come to accept that you are too 
fragile at this stage to accept my overtures.  For that I can not fault
you . . . it is just my bad timing, and picking you (1 of 2.5 billion
women on this planet) to have an infatuation over

Yet, I still can not stop thinking of you.  I wish I could turn you
off like a TV, tune you out by hitting the "Mute" button.  But I cannot!
Simply cannot right now for I am helplessly trapped in your spell, and
know not if escape is an option I want to consider