Remarkable.

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 29, 2017

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Submitted: July 29, 2017

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If all it takes, is his own smile to light up your face, he is truly a remarkable man. Sometimes I zone out whenever he talks to me, I get so lost in his face. He's a distraction, a walking disaster. If I let my eyes meet his, they'll entrap me, make me feel weak, vulnerable. Because they understand me. If I let my gaze linger on his lips, I'm gone, because they're the ultimate weapon against me. They'll make me do anything. I love the feeling of looking at anything, and it reminding me of him. Coffee, hot, because that's how he likes it now that he knows what it can achieve. Just a whiff of lemon, and I imagine him here, the soapy smell mingled with his cologne. I like watching him read, eyes darting across the pages, fingers tracing the edges, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I like watching him cook, so many things all at once, arms flexing, head bent, but always managing to give his full attention to me, as I sit, on my kitchen counter throne, just watching. I like riling him up. Twirling his car keys in persuit of driving. He thinks I suck but I promise I'm getting the hang of it. I like sleeping with him. That's the weirdest thing. Usually I can't stand sharing a bed with anyone. I like the freedom to roll wherever, but somehow, I find it better, to sleep with him. Or on him. I like watching him talk to my mum, polite but energetic. Hands waving, eyes shining. It's a good look on him. His clothes look better on me. Even he agrees. But my favourite thing is teasing him. I'll take it when he makes fun of my clumsiness, laughs at my sappiness, but I take it knowing that payback's a real bitch. And I can tease for a heck of a long time. Till he's frustrated. Till he's borderline wild. Till his hands reach to grip anything, and then I'll smile all on my own, because somehow, this power, to be one over him, feels good. 


© Copyright 2017 Hanah C. All rights reserved.

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