For the Life of HimThat stretch of and becoming, unbeknownst steppe
Another fucking flavor
To call and compensate age, like that colleague in fur
An ambitious and bitter Disney witch
Surrounded by such a fearless, pure push
She disintegrates among better Vegans and Russians
And wisps of blond, slight, determined Americans.
Such Welsh snatch seems suddenly absurd, even
When her perfume, her fur, her accent and determination are seductive
In a milfy milkyway. Perhaps
She is aware of one
Heartbreaking speck on her map
That makes every Everly brother veer toward her. Or
A slight insecure blond flirt
A gorgeous genuine and blinding flip of hair
The inhaling smile of a casual/comfortable cross of legs
Over text, a walking away, in front of a trailing scarf.
A doze on the long commute ends eyes fixed
On a young mother with a scar on her nose
As if they’d slept together, she sneaks off, so as not to wake him.
She wore blue and brown.
He loves HER.
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