DATE: 03/25/2008 15:14:24 / MOOD: other

I have this idea of a girl inside my head

ambiguity like indecipherable like cryptic like opaque

but there are set criterion to my fantastical undescribable:

long hair, wavy, dark, cascading to her shoulders and pours

bright whites surrounding harlequin eyes, piercing so that they hurt

skimmed cream skin, alabaster colored

curve-shaped as only women can expand and contract

stems like pillars but slender, ankles kissable as lips

 

I’ve known her for every idiosyncratic epoch of my time

since I was young enough to see what small boys are privileged to glimpse

the acroamatic secrets of lady chuckles vibrantly echoed in circles I grew expelled from

since I was old enough to look at a woman and wonder about her skin

imagining the sound bones would resonate under comingled sheets

since I first saw the promenade of entrancing hand twirls around

a gypsy creature's hips swinging just for me

 

So all my life I’ve been waiting

never missed a second to twist and creak my neck

random feelings of being looked over well and I'm waiting for

the pop of tongue-clicking, subtle perfume intoxication

 

But what is my mysterious caricature?

this avatar conjured up to be my ever present past influence

a zeitgeist to the romance of another age

defunct and dusty amongst clichéd romances novels and

late-night movie-channel pornography?

I’ve looked and waited and desperately tried to forget

my gypsy woman out there dancing

 

And all I can do is ask myself:

is this love

or is it just anticipation?

 

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