She is beautiful.
Her dress is soft over her body like prom queen thigh silk,
her hair running down her back like God  never gave up his gold.
I could see her smile across a room,
and even if it wasn't real,
(I don't know)
it was beautiful:
her hairpin curved lips and blue eyes that don't read
"Drink me",
they will not make you smaller
or bigger.
They will, however, leave you sitting under the hot sun,
1:43 pm,
simmering at the thoughts of speaking to someone with fingers so much more dainty than yours,
And a voice so much more like the dew on leaves.
You don't even know her.