The lights in his eyes. Yes. So lovely as he struh-struh-struts his stuff clad in black jeans and flannel. And his keys jangle to the tune of his cordial swagger. Hair passed his shoulders gleams a mane of radiance to surround that stuh-stuh-stunning face. Hazel turns to ash in the shadows and fingers wander. It leaves you wondering how this creature came to be... so you ask.
Can you dig it?
The moment of clarity strikes when you swear the murky hazel is a mirror and the light of the sun gets caught. A finger traces semi circles on my back and it sends chuh-chuh-chuh-chills up my spine, but I just can't get enough. the touch flickers faded memories, flogging my brain and taking away my water-run breath. [once more] His voice, that of a personified lyrebird, calls out in wuh-wuh-whisper to my ear. My ear, begging for more sick, sweet music... getting just what it desires without delay. Spoiled to hell by instant gratification and wanton heart mewling.
Ten times two overpowers five plus eight by seven... and I was down for the count at first glance. Beauty is, of course, the first thing noticed... at least until one opens his pretty little muh-muh-mouth as silver threads slip out the corner of his mouth and my eyes follow them down his body. They pool blue-violet on the floor around our feet. And yet, the depth of that pool had yet to be revealed to me...
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