See Me

The gods have smiled upon her.

Beauty wrapped inside her slight almond shaped eyes, framed by locks of women’s envy.

Fullness of luscious lips, stained with sweet kisses.

The shape of hours and glass that make men forget their sensibilities.

Colliding between her thighs, thighs of milk and honey.

The gods have truly smiled upon her.

And that’s why they don’t really see me.

Words of philosophy, theory, education, and intelligence lure her senses born from her thirsty mind.

Always moving, like waves of water, fluid; never satiated, crammed with details, indulged with revelations from letters strung together with grace and allure.

When she opens her mouth, they spill from those glossy lips quenching embers of fire ignited again by conversation’s stimulation.

But the gods have smiled upon her. Beautiful as she is.

That’s why they don’t really see me.

Hanging shingles keep her lights on.

Strength and struggle knocking on her windows breed skilled determination.

Talent builds on the blind scales of Lady Justice.

It’s the people she works doggedly for.

Sultry eyes, pouty lips, curves they say that withstand the aging hands of time.

The gods have smiled upon her.

That’s why they don’t really see me.

Hollow eyes cry hollow tears creating flashy hollow smiles in irrelevant faces, faces that see skin deep.

Flawless hues and excellent shoe game.

Pencil skirts with matching heels showing legs for days because that’s the most important.

Unrealized dreams hide in dark corners of the soul hidden behind hollow eyes.

Fear of the unattained plagues her mind.

But, why? They wonder.

For, truly, the gods have smiled upon her.

That’s why they don’t really see me.