Meep

On a stage,

in a dark theatre,

with all eyes on me.

I'm sweating,

I forgot my lines,

I'm going to faint,

I don't know what to do.

And suddenly the spotlight shifts

to you.

You with your brown hair that falls over both

large, gleaming, shining black eyes,

with lips so perfect,

hips curved,

beauty itself.

You, beauty, who shows

modesty and kindness and

forgiveness.

You, beauty, who loves life,

lives with love,

You beauty, who sets me free.

And with a voice like birdsong,

a smooth tongue,

you speak,

rolling each word off of the end of your mouth,

as if it were a wisp of smoke.

Even when you stumble

the crowd stares in awe,

admiring how perfect your mistakes are.

And with a step graceful as a swan,

you step forward,

gesturing for the crowd to join you in your

play.

I shrink off,

knowing that I am no match for this talent,

this grace,

these words,

those eyes...

those eyes?

Those eyes that are turned on me,

Me?  Me?

And now my heart skips a beat,

and unable to think strait,

I turn and run away.

The End

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