I awake at night
coated in sweat
haunted by the sight
of that nameless lady sprite
with the Cheshire grin
and the witty quips
the laughter of bells
and the gentlest of lips

and I cannot help
but to think of Dylan's
"just like a woman"
when I think of her
she's so small, but grown
oozes sex appeal,
zest.
she's bursting at the seams,
but behind those bright eyes I know
she too must have such bad dreams,
and I'm drawn to her in ways I don't
fully understand.
I'm of the age, I fit the part,
but I'm not yet a man.

and thus I watch her from a far,
dazzled.
entranced.
intrigued.
but in her presence my heart races,
me: tongue-tied and fatigued.

10/29/2009

Posted on 10/29/2009
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