"I never saw his glimpse more than once at a time. That one look was always enough to make my heart leap into my throat, though. I knew he was not perfect, how could he be? But still, his grapevine hair, almost lighter than his skin, and those lips, ragged, but still the most delicate shade of pink, curled around his ever-burning cigarette, whose smoke reflected in his deep, clear, dark eyes... It all had an air of age unfitting to his cherubic smile and his childish voice. He only ever looked at me very briefly, even when we spoke. I don't know if we could have become friends, and there still sits in me something that doesn't want to find out."

Softly whispering,

Like smoke she drifts away

Transformed

By words you might have heard

But never really listened to...

Take me out for coffee;
         I'll ask for tea, instead.
   I'll burn my tongue
     On phantom blackberries
While I try to find
            A way to say
        'I love you'

ragged
       turquoise
                  hair

                          d
                              r
                                 i
                                    p
                                       s     d
                                              o
                                              w
                                               n
into glistening eyes
         which no one can tell
  whatever precious stones

                                        lie beneath
                
                                               their
                                                      wanting
                                                                    look

His moods are made of earth,
Silent laughter bounds through him
Like lithe and limber creatures,
Creeping, crawling,
Slithering through woods,
Then breaking into the electric chase
For playful eyes,
Staring with a wanting gaze
Through deep, dark pools
Of liquid love.