What Do You See?

How does his skin fit over my clothes? Pointed eyes enraged with curiosity. His questions engulf me. Drowning in what he must know. Only for all intents and purpose the answers he seeks still vex me.

Just the skin on the pudding. Drawn back to reveal the creamy center. But not without its own merits.

They always say what suits me. Never realizing I am not suited to it. Wearing their tuxedos all day. As if bow ties on the floor might enhance our mutual nakedness.

If I drove faster, I might get there sooner. But chances are I'd fly right by without ever noticing what I'd missed.

There are so many ways to change. This is only one of them.

Every day he shows me others.

If you ever see a girl pulling her hair back as you look upon her, she's telling you to look.

Again.

For the woman in her.