I would like to play a game with you... just you.
You... I have been watching you lately, have you noticed? The day you had went to the grocery store and spent a minute deciding between the type of crips you would like to purchase. I would have chosen the Tostitos instead of the Lays, but that's my preference. It hasn't been long since I have been engrossed by you, has it? From that moment I have been infatuated.
From a distance I could tell you have another deeper side to you, something more raw, primal, it was written within your eyes, you hide it incredibly well, at first, a more approachable face you allow yourself to wear, but we both know you like the sensation of eyes constantly on you, staring from afar, those insatiable thoughts swirling in your mind, isn't that so? I'm still learning your more about you, and your patterns.
Patterns... they seemed trivial until now haven't they, are you trying to remember if you have seen me prowling around you? I think you are. The way you find your perfect position to sleep as you toss through the motions, you know what you are searching for, yet you always seem to believe that there's something better before reverting back to your comfortable pillow embrace as you fall asleep.
Only to wake up to another aimless morning. I find it delightful that you get irritated when your alarm goes off, as if it was not you who had set the time, always pressing the snooze before grudgingly going about your morning routines. Standing there in front of your bathroom mirror, did anyone else notice how your eyes linger closed as you vigorously allow the brush to graze your teeth? Guess it's just me. The way you always stand in the same spot while changing into your underwear, or the way you brush your hair, how many strokes do you perform again?
Are the hairs on the back of your neck standing? I'm sure they are.
Let me help you find a time where it didn't go as planned, you had spoken to your co-worker in the parking lot before heading into work, what was her name again? That tight jeans definitely accentuated your attributes. Do you remember that day? I do. It was the same day that you had arrived late to your unsatisfying job, do you remember the reason? The power to your home had gone out sometime early in the morning, those comfortable autonomous motions you go through had now all but disappeared. I drank my coffee watching you being deprived of yours. Was that a coincidence? Or was the power turned off on purpose? Your daily patterns are your only coping mechanisms and they all vanished without warning. It made it so much more interesting not to know your movements.
Movements... the artform of female physique translation, that if done correctly can entice those around you towards elation from the rhythm of such an unspoken language. I particularly enjoy our times spent when you are walking, casually, without intent. Sometimes in your ankle-strap heels, sometimes in your flats, the movement all the same. how your hips sway from left to right, the way your knees bend, one foot in front of the other, your arms influencing your balance. do you find your feminine gestures attractive? I do.
Am I starting to make sense of it all now, as I continue to impose myself? Your actions can be gentle at times, when you gave up your seat for another that day, but they can also be selfish, watching you as you watch that homeless man on the street asking for help as you walk on by. Did you feel any guilt?
I quite relish the days when you are drained, weary, unable to move as you sink into your soft sofa. It's when I can truly concentrate on how your sub-conscious takes control of your body trying to find a way for your thoughts to softly disappear. those subtle changes, for instance, the way your right arm rests below your breasts, limp, to you, your arm is resting, for me, my appreciation of how you fill your lungs with air, each time you breathe in I can see how your chest moves, and with it, the way your hand extends that movement for my viewing pleasure.
Have you also noticed the way your fingers twitch ever so slightly, it's from your heart beating constantly. You are wondering how could I have seen that aren't you? "The only way would be if I..." yes you are right, I was that close to you, yet that doesn't influence my fixation.
Fixation... the oxford dictionary describes this noun to be:
a very strong interest in somebody/something that is unusual or not reasonable.
Did you know the meaning? I didn't, well that is until I met you, are you an unusual type of person? Are you known to have thoughts that are otherwise considered improper among the bodies around you? Or have I gotten it all wrong, and in fact my strong interest in you, is that, that is unusual? I know you to be quite interesting, don't you agree? So how could it be unusual for me to be obsessed upon a fascinating woman.
Although you might not seem to think so, the clumsy self of yours does add to your unique intrigue as well, even makes me smile from time to time, for instance, do you remember when you had taken a big sip of water only for it to go down the wrong way, coughing and gagging almost as if you were used to the feeling of choking. Sitting there going about your day, paging through some mundane work, when your tummy grumbles as you look up to see if anyone had noticed, you might in fact caught a glimpse of me being that close to you that day.
You must be asking yourself what is it that makes you that interesting, correct? Well, this is not a job interview, we aren't searching for the perfect candidate, are we? I find it irresistible when you do those little things in life that might be invisible to others, might even be invisible to you unless it was brought to your attention. That sudden breath you take when you hear the first raindrops of a storm or the way you roll your eyes at ones' lack of intelligence or the way you immerse yourself in hidden thoughts while steaming hot water runs down your soft smooth sensual skin while in the shower. I wonder what goes through your mind in those moments, do they enhance your senses?
Senses... how many of them do you take for granted? I believe that they can be quite powerful when you immerse yourself in them, without expectation, I have watched how yours' in particular defines your inner most identity. Specifically, right now, are you trying picture how does my voice sound, it's quite complex the intention of adding sound within ones' mind, is that not so? eager to hear each and every pitch that sounds appealing to you, how do I sound to you?
Deep and rough or is it polished and refined? Have you given me an accent, is it from the language you always wanted to learn? Or the familiarity of my words appears to be a voice you have heard before? Maybe you have also resolved my voice to a comfortable pace from which your eyes move from word to word, your brain trying to comprehend what is to be true. do I articulate the pronunciation of each word to your liking, lingering each vowel seductively or do I appear louder more controlling in acceptance?
By now it's safe to say that you have already figured out that I have heard your voice, captivating. You have me enthralled with each word that escapes those soft tender lips, smooth, as you roll your r's, harmonious to my ears allowing me to enter a state of rapture each time.
The melodic transition from each syllable as you continue expressing your point of view, yet as always you are cut down, often, be an external overpowering tone. I see how that affects you, the way you internally crawl up into a small ball as you creep into a delicate state. your voice being stolen from you. As if your words, not to matter anymore. Closing your eyes to escape the presence of your reality.
How would you describe colours that you see when your eyes are closed in those moments? Are they as black as the night sky or have you entered a fantasy world in which the bright colours mask the realism you have come to know about your life? Sight, your eyes darting across each line of text.
Are you wondering how could I know your inner most suffering that you endure? Which tell are you performing right now, the way you bite your lower lip? or do have your fingers rubbing against them? Have you taken in that deep breath, as the recognition slowly starts to consumes you.
I've always been within your peripheral vision, watching those stolen glances of yours, the facial expressions you conjure, when deep in thought, oblivious to your surroundings, eyes lingering out of focus, the constant feeling of loss, hoping to be seen, further than what you see.
More than just the image you see when you turn around during the night, contemplating upon your reflection, that is your shadow. you are paying attention now though, aren't you? What do you see? Have I captivated your imagination so much so that you are willing to be vulnerable with this stranger.
For I know how reclusive your vulnerability can be, only shown in the most intimate state. You prefer to express your feelings in this way. Distraction, have you realised it as yet? The way you tend to interrupt your feeling of longing. Those sweatpants that you use to sleep in, pulled down, the waistband resting around your thighs, to me, still looks insatiable on you, it's when your self-esteem is at its lowest that I see your appearance, radiant. You might not feel alluring, the value you perceive your worth to be, insignificant, it is however when I get to see you interact with yourself. The way you start to rediscover yourself with such sensual touch.
Observing the moods' you tolerate while you lay on your bed, annoyed, that nothing on your phone can satisfy your increasingly growing hunger within. Frustration written all over your active facial expressions, knowing you require a release from the motionless day you had experienced. I glared from a distance, as you placed your phone next to you, letting your hands roam against your seductively succulent body as you started to enter a world, your world, filled with what I could only imagine is the most erotic fantasies that reside deep within your mind.
