Beauty

I see her walking, full hips and breasts,
Providing curves that speak directly to the
Testosterone laden brain buried beneath the “rational mind,”
But not nearly as deep as I had expected.

Here I am, gaze affixed on this woman,
Watching her as if she were food
And I had not eaten in a week.
As I watch, I become certain
That she would be the most
Agile conversationalist, we would
Share many interests, including raising
Some of the worlds most beautiful children;
Fair-haired, sparkling eyes, and very, very smart.

I watch her closely as she passes my
Early morning breakfast nook, discovered in
My brief sojourn to the big city.
I struggle against the arrow that Eros has
Flung so casually in my direction
As it plays against my heart strings.
I work hard to chew slowly against the
Ever increasing rhythm of my heart,
Willing a calm demeanor on my face,
Lest I lose control and begin drooling,
Lest I run after this perfect stranger and
Stretch the fabric of social propriety to the breaking point.

She passes, and each step she takes makes it more certain
That this fantasy will not be,
That the rational mind is right in its assertion
That the fairy tale cannot happen, will not end
Happily ever after.

In another breath, she turns the corner and is gone,
This goddess of perfect form,
Never to be seen again,
This momentary realization of
Beauty.

by Kenneth Baker


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