Look at her.


Look at her. Hair like a mermaid and multi-hued eyes – so many colors they look like a Kandinsky painting. Look at her. Her lips sit on her slender face thick and plump, between pale cheeks with natural blush. She hides this under foundation. Her long, natural lashes are rimmed with dark eyeliner and her bronze eye shadow glimmers in sunlight. Look at her. Her body was sculpted to fit mine, like a blacksmith perfecting his blade. Heating her up and hammering her into perfect edges. Her curves slither like the smooth figures of glass, compressed from billions of little molecules. Look at her.

Actually, don’t. Don’t look at her, because I know damn well what you’re thinking. I see you, man – men, as you walk past her in the store. As you park your car next to ours. As you catch her reflection in the gym mirror. I see you watch her with hungry eyes and I can see everything you want to do.

You hover like fucking buzzards over dead prey, and if I look away for one second too long you’ve got your talons in her tender skin. Back off. I don’t care that you want her – who wouldn’t? – but I care that you want her for her body only. You don’t know her.

If you did, you would want her for her mind.

For the thousands of different perspectives she can formulate over a single subject. For the intrinsic self-doubt she has established that forces her to second guess every right answer. For being in constant contest with herself – to always wanting to become better. To follow a path in peace and equality even though she was raised to kill or be killed. You would want her for the infinite creativity she has buried under years of exterior judgments – but one that escapes her involuntarily and when it does, it is stunning: like fireworks in a snow globe. Bright, sharp, yet condensed. You would want her for the quiver in her voice every morning. You would want her for the brush of her cheek on your shoulder. You would want her for the way she looks at you.

Look at her now. Look at her now and don’t crave her – respect her. Wish you had her in your life, trust me, I understand. I would gladly take on the challenge of any man pursuing to love her as I do. But if you chase her only to fuck her, just leave. You are degrading her character.

Look at her, but not through her. She is more than a big ass and perfect tits.

That said, she does have a big ass and perfect tits so it’s kinda hard not to stare.


6 thoughts on “Look at her.

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