Seduction
I saw seduction leaning almost tenderly against the pockmarked face of the old world brick wall. His gaze was closed and distant, as though his mind was absorbing a different tempo than the rest of the world, following a foreign cadence that he wanted no part of. The wind delicately fingered his long ochre hair, sending it falling capriciously into his narrow face. His hand rested lightly in his coat pocket, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly beneath. He closed his eyes. And that one simple gesture made me long with all of my heart that he would turn those eyes on me, that he would smile with such tenderness for me, that I could run my hands gently through the matted mess of his hair.
I wanted him to love me.
He didn’t know. He never would.
I saw seduction leaning almost tenderly against the pockmarked face of the old world brick wall, and his power was how oblivious he was to my admiration, the innocence and the ignorance, when I realized that he did not comprehend in the slightest how he affected me.