She wears her hair short flicked back behind her ears.
Protruding cheek bones leap out at you as she offers one
and all kindhearted smiles. With a neck as fragile as
a tree branch resting softly on the forest floor, i spy her
across the library populated by students hooked up
to worn out computers tired from furthering their
education. Oh what i would give to be an anointed
member of her clan a trusted confidante in her circle
of friends, but alas I am an outcast who is far too awkward.
Lying back relaxed on her broken blue swivel chair
she hums a simple melody on a chair that can't be lowered
due to some moron breaking it. A silent muted
silence hangs in the air as the conversation with her
friends falters. The love idols mind seems to wander alone
lonely in a far-flung desert of past romances, she turns to
her side and drapes a book of her thin shaved legs.
Intently she peers down at a biology book trying to extract
every morsel of information from the text for a looming exam.
She has always tried hard to avoid the onslaught of
boredom and maintain her healthy grades.
The gift of a person of high intellect like her is their
innate ability to entertain themselves. I laugh to myself
recalling how smarter people have less course
or desire for physical activity as they have countless
things they would rather do than kick rugby balls
or tone their legs. As if in a stupor I wonder who this bedazzling girl
is, do her parents love her? is she an orphan? what things
bring her joy or sorrow?
If she was a coffee she would surely be a short black
with no milk, strong like a kick from a mule with an exuberant
amount of caffeine. Yes a petite ever satisfying short black
describes this woman perfectly, her hair darker than midnight
dancing upon a ravens wing in mid-flight. Again the cold windswept
morning threatens to infiltrate the walls and windows around me
they hiss and shudder like a dying mans body.
Thankfully Winter has passed and now the flowers blossom and bloom
eager buds open up like a caterpillars cocoons revealing their
beautiful butterfly petals. On reflection we were all lucky to survive the testing depths
of winter this year, many didn't. My meandering thoughts are soon
overcome and my interests suddenly float back to the work
at hand before my last thought vanishes I think to myself
"why do i bother wasting my time on intellectual pursuits
when woman are so infinitely more rewarding?"
No comments:
Post a Comment