Her Grace
It was something about the way she looked at me.
Just a deep look in her eyes that seemed to call me by my name.
A feeling of empty connection, and the longing for more.
I want to give her what she wants, what she’s calling for,
Her scarce, and provocative stare pulling me by my soul, into hers.
It was something about the way she walked.
A pace, of rushing steps that moved to my heartbeat,
An air of provocation, of intrigue, of seduction
A light, swaying gait, imperceptibly resembling a pendulum
Drawing my eyes back and forth across the ever-tilting line of her hips.
It was something about the way she smiled.
Only a light, swift grin that expressed nothing, and yet so much,
Spreading the tangled and inexplicable rush of emotions.
I want to let myself go, to indulge in the moment,
Her swift curl dying away in the usual, disenchanting manner.
It was something in the way she spoke.
Her words so concise, and yet two-sided
A sense of reliability, and comfort, only scarcely loosening to
A playful, taunting tone, that tightened up whenever I drew close
Or when our moments came to an end.
It was just something about her.
Her impression,
Her disposition,
Her Grace.
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