so
the date on friday went
well
into extra innings
as one might say
I find myself
intrigued
compelled
even though
I realize there is no future in it
she smells
no
she tastes like heaven
and
I
I am intoxicated
of course
I would be lying if I said this was anything new
however
what is new
what is different
is that I cannot read her
not
like I read everyone else
most women
most people
tell me their entire stories
without words
without my having to ask
it is merely written on their faces
usually
sleeping with a woman is a foregone conclusion
not because I am so incredibly handsome
[although of course that helps]
but
because they telegraph it
it is as if they say
push this button
[helpfully labeled "b"]
and I'll sleep with you
and of course
being the helpful sort
I dutifully press that button
I think
perhaps
I may be in trouble
you see
I can read her emotions
that is to say
I know what she is feeling
as she feels it
what I can't discern
and what makes her so enigmatic to me
is the lines between those emotions
normally
I can read it like a story
but with her
not at all
I can tell when
she is pleased
she is aroused
she is touched
but the story eludes me
I, quite simply can't read her that way.
I can read specific emotions
but not the process as it relates to them
I had the opportunity to sleep with her
but I declined
choosing instead
to play a game I like to call
"lets see how much fun we can have without having sex"
and
fun we did have
one part of me thinks
perhaps hopes
that I may have met my match
after all she did have the same teacher
that I did
the cynic in me
suggests that I merely
haven't found the cypher
the code
that will lay her bare to me
and to that thought
I say
so what
I have always been a quixotic bastard
and now
no more so (or less so) than usual
but I find myself
intrigued
amused
perhaps even
intoxicated
well
into extra innings
as one might say
I find myself
intrigued
compelled
even though
I realize there is no future in it
she smells
no
she tastes like heaven
and
I
I am intoxicated
of course
I would be lying if I said this was anything new
however
what is new
what is different
is that I cannot read her
not
like I read everyone else
most women
most people
tell me their entire stories
without words
without my having to ask
it is merely written on their faces
usually
sleeping with a woman is a foregone conclusion
not because I am so incredibly handsome
[although of course that helps]
but
because they telegraph it
it is as if they say
push this button
[helpfully labeled "b"]
and I'll sleep with you
and of course
being the helpful sort
I dutifully press that button
I think
perhaps
I may be in trouble
you see
I can read her emotions
that is to say
I know what she is feeling
as she feels it
what I can't discern
and what makes her so enigmatic to me
is the lines between those emotions
normally
I can read it like a story
but with her
not at all
I can tell when
she is pleased
she is aroused
she is touched
but the story eludes me
I, quite simply can't read her that way.
I can read specific emotions
but not the process as it relates to them
I had the opportunity to sleep with her
but I declined
choosing instead
to play a game I like to call
"lets see how much fun we can have without having sex"
and
fun we did have
one part of me thinks
perhaps hopes
that I may have met my match
after all she did have the same teacher
that I did
the cynic in me
suggests that I merely
haven't found the cypher
the code
that will lay her bare to me
and to that thought
I say
so what
I have always been a quixotic bastard
and now
no more so (or less so) than usual
but I find myself
intrigued
amused
perhaps even
intoxicated