She sat with arms crossed, young fingers encircling her elbows, striped thin scarf tight around her neck cascading down.
Black beret perched back on her light yellow hair, she watched me talk.
I'd never been so self-conscious. I looked away as she looked at me so as to appear aloof.
When she spoke, she stared straight ahead, not looking at me but occasionally. I took the opportunity to gaze into her eyes, noting the way her face fit together: the arch of her eyebrows, the doe-like quality I beheld in her eyes - innocent, beautiful. I felt she could see through my facades, the disguise was for nothing, I was laid bare.
I reached up to scratch my neck, any opportunity to fidget and pretend that there was something else occupying my thoughts aside from her. Looking at her, though, thoughts slid in and out of my mind. "I love you," I thought, the words closer to my lips than I would've liked. I broke out of my reality and dreamed of taking her in my arms and kissing her as she spoke, her body yielding along with her mind.
Her slim fingers tugged at the sheer long sleeves of her t-shirt, I felt that I could see her skin through the weave of the fabric, I strained so hard observing her.
I broke away, ending the conversation, shattering the attraction like an atomsmasher, releasing myself from her pull. I had to separate, lest I make good on my yearning.
Slowly walking away, I schemed a way to return....
The snow continued to fall.
This is an Operation: Kill My MySpace post. Original posting: Jan. 8, 2008