Infatuation

I sit. i listen. my ipod blare the words of a hundred poets,

I sit.

i listen.



my ipod blare the words of a hundred poets,

whose abilities all far surpass my own,

and as this sound track accompanies me,

i fall in love.



i sit.

i stare.



I watch the beauty that is my love,

as she slowly sweeps the loose strand of hair to its resting place behind her ear,

i see the slow muscles move,

still tired from the night before.

and as i watch this masterpiece,

i considerthe great future that awaits us.



i think.

i obsess.



with each passing moment,

i feel my affections grow,

unbound by the rules that would apply to an aquaintance,

my love intensifies.

and as i begin to approach her,

i think of what i will say.



i move.

i act.



I introduce myself,

to the target of my affections,

she tells me her name,

and i fall out of love.