She stained the rim with her lipstick,
And I lifted it to my lips.
Red, intimate.

The faint smudge, a trace of her presence,
A friendly face masking the turmoil beneath.
When I think of beauty, I think of her.

There’s a quiet seduction she seems unaware of,
Like how her eyes hold an unintentional allure.
There is slender grace in her form,
A quiet elegance I cannot help but notice.

She moves in ways that stir something within me.
She made me understand what captivates me, what draws me in
She is careless in a way that only makes her more enticing.

Lastly, she made me realize
What simply liking someone feels like;
For that's all she'll ever be.