I must admit
That I admired the angular
Shape of the bones in your face,
The fey-like slant of your eyes,
And how you carry yourself
Somewhat like a bashful child.
But I'm not one to act on impulse
--not the impulse of the eye,
And was content to occupy my little corner
Just sneaking a glance now and then.
Then you spoke.
Insight poured from your mouth
Like honey from a funnel.
Pure intelligence,
without arrogance,
Caught by a slight stutter.
I could feel the blood in my veins
Rush to my face
And became painfully aware of my breathing.
You stood waiting for a response
And I just stared at you like
An idiot.