my hidden thoughts...

the colour of your jeans.

It is almost funny, not quite hysterical to think that my mind

captures your every movement like a photographer watching their next project as if it will be their last.

My eyes latch onto you with such greed I cannot remember what I had for lunch that day.

However I do remember those jeans.

Black, dark and thin, they fit your slender legs as if tailored just for you.

The others in the camera blur around me as my heart beats in excitement.

A small but mesmerizing detail of you.

Every little aspect of you intrigues me, 

and it is not as if i can blame you for my Infactuation.

An Infactuation that soon becomes what most believe to be a myth,

love.