Black hair, blue eyes,

There's a beauty to her short, lithe

Stature.

I see her in the library

I'm writing, I'm watching her,

I think she notices.

She looks away every time

I catch her eye.

I like to think she's writing too,

Maybe writing about me.

Perhaps ranting about

The unshaven, ugly bum

Lacking even the gumption

To comb his hair

Who's ogling her while she's trying

To write something beautiful.

Perhaps there's beauty to ugliness

But there is no beauty to mine

My ugly is pure and undeniable

Just as her beauty is.

Either way, whatever she's writing

I'd love to read, maybe over coffee.

Maybe it'll be good, better than mine…

Maybe the best poetry I've ever read

But she's too shy to show it off

And I'll...

She gets up and leaves the desk,

Puts on a long black coat

As her long black hair waves enticingly

Side to side to side.

I miss her already…

By Tyler R. Martin

From: United States

Website: https://bourboncigarettesandsyllables.wordpress.com/wp-admin/

Twitter: bnandcigarettes