ON SOMETHING I WROTE 12 YEARS AGO (I)

I have shared things I have written on this site before on two occasions; both poems made me cringe more than a little. This next piece - I would say I'm "less ashamed" of it. The girl who inspired it was never interested in me - although I never did technically ask her out. What can I say? I was still at the "write stuff about girls I think are pretty and hope they ask me out" stage of my dating habits. I moved out of that stage like three days ago.

I also titled it "The most romantic work ever created," which may be a bit of a stretch. The second part of this will be posted on Monday.

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You look beautiful tonight. The way you glide across the floor, floating, angelic, entrancing the admiring gaze of every person, forcing people to crane their necks in order to look for just another instant, another moment. Your demeanor is simple, your manner casual. Yet you captivate me with a word! I am held by some tremendous attraction, immovable, trapped in a fantasy world which only you and I inhabit.

You look beautiful tonight. Your dress is not extravagant, it does not scream "Notice me!" But people do. They do not notice your dress, the gentle way it slopes down your body, offering subtle highlights and screaming accents all at once. They notice you, your smile, the smile that lightens not only the room but also my heart.

There are things they don't notice. Far too captivated by your smile, they do not notice your eyes. Earthy brown with a hint of fire behind them. These are eyes that will not shed unnecessary tears. These are eyes I love. This is a woman I could love. Or do love.

Your hair, dark, like the night sky, the chandelier light sparkling in it, on it, like stars in the heavens. Wisps of it hang down, framing your face as if it were some priceless work of art. I smile as I imagine your face in the Louvre, and the endless lines of people waiting just to see it. I would walk by and tell people "I have seen this face, I have seen this woman. She is more beautiful than any spring sunrise, any fall sunset, any miracle Nature could produce. And you are.

How do I approach you? I hesitate, intimidated, for a moment. You glance my way. Our eyes meet, for what could be eons or seconds. I cannot move. My heart somersaults over itself, leaping up, down, in, out, bent on making every cell aware of your presence. And they are. Every nerve buzzes, the blood pumps, hot cold, something shoots up and down my spine, my knees go slightly weak, I am alive. Who are you that you have this power?
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Wow, I apparently was really into both commas and similes when I wrote this, huh? I am a little confused by the line about Nature, because it makes it seem like this girl was somehow unnatural. I was a little reticent to share this, because "earthy brown with a hint of fire" is my go-to description of a girl's brown eyes, and if it's out there, I can't use it again. Oh, and I used "You look beautiful tonight" twice and don't revisit that phrasing anywhere else in the work. Hmmm. Speaking of eyes, what's up with the unnecessary tears line? What a weird phrase.

Loyal podcast listeners will be happy to know this doesn't end in any threats.

Again, the end of this will be posted on Monday.