The room wasn't very lit up
But something about her glowed brightly
Perhaps her white aura
Or perhaps it was my pearly smile that reflected the venerate happiness I unknowingly felt within
Butterflies in my stomach
The happy ones -- unlike the anxious elephant stampede everyone else seemed to give me when they merely looked at me
I enjoyed being looked at when it came to her.
I'd put on a hell of a show if I wanted
But when it came to anyone else, it felt...
Violating.
It felt wrong.
I remember the first time I saw her
How dark the room was; how bright mine was; I was shy and giddy and yet I wasn't aware of it.
She blocked most of herself -- it irked me a little having wanted to see more -- but I could see how beautiful she looked.
Her hair - a seamless stream of dark silk flowing over her shoulders;
And I remember...
Just how much I wanted to run my fingers through it.
Again and again.
And again.
--- Ink and Wander
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Floating Feathers - poetry and prose
Poetry💜🤍🖤 Playing with floating feathers is what I do now. This is small book of miscellaneous/random poetry and prose written with the lens of a demisexual person; writing about love and relationships and overall approach. 🖤🤍💜🏳️🌈 For more poetry...
