Whispers Of Our Soul

The Look

*Not really a poem, more of a story or am interesting passage to let your mind wander*

You had that look in your eye. A look that said I would take you down any day of the week, just call me baby. We don't need to sugar coat it, or glaze it over. We aren't adults, but we can at least attempt to be mature about this.

So yeah, that look some would consider smoldering and sexy. You had that look when you looked at me. It was only for a second though, a flash of the darkest blue in your otherwise light-as-ice eyes, then it was gone. Don't get me wrong, it was smoldering and, okay...a little sexy. Usually I don't do that kind of thing, guys giving girls the 'I want to screw you so bad' look? Doesn't fly with me. Personally, I think it's demoralizing for women and is, in a way, suggesting you would like to use my body for your own pleasures. That's just me.

So then why was that look so perfect for you? We weren't on the topic of sexual relations, nor where we discussing anything that could be in correspondence with such a topic. Tell me, do the words 'monitor the offspring of two genetically different plants' arouse you in anyway?

Didn't think so. Yet, there you were, turned half way around in your seat, despite the fact the teacher had yelled at you moments before for being turned half way around in your chair, looking at me with that flash of dark in your perfectly crafted blue eyes.

The reason I wasn't instantaneously repulsed or disgusted was because after that 'screw me anytime' look passed, your lips turned into the smallest of grins before your face flushed a deep pink and you decided that the woven fabric of your shoelaces were fairly interesting to behold.

It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. You, no matter how much you deny or wish you hadn't, though about loving me...hard and it made you blush and look away. The innocence was too much and then I smiled like an idiot because I had known exactly what passed through your head.

I don't know if that meant anything. Romantic relations take very different turns when it comes to the crosswords of gender. And maybe I'm reading this all wrong, but it seems like everyday there's that flash of dark blue and then you intently study your shoelaces whilst your face begins to resemble an almost ripped tomato. Don't worry though, it would be a cute tomato.

The thing that got me was it happened at the most random of times. Once I had been swinging my legs and my foot happened to hit the textbook that was in the backpack of the student sitting next to you, which would be directly in front of me. And you turned around to laugh or smile or make some patronizing comment or whatever, and I audibly whispered/yelled, "shit" and there was that look, and then the laces and then the tomato.

Another time, we were talking about a tv show. One that I had finished and you had not. I remember trying so hard not to say anything to you because I wanted so badly to talk about it, but I couldn't ruin the surprise of the ending. I was doing sporadic hand motions and making probably the most un-attractive faces. But there was that look. And again, when we passed each other in the hall, different directions and different classes. I was holding hands with one of my girlfriends as I often do because it's more fun to skip whilst holding hands because in my personal opinion, skipping alone is no fun and is just sad. So I'm skipping and singing a terrible, off-key rendition of 'Somebody that you used to know' and I catch you run around to see me better and I just stare right into those perfectly crafted eyes of yours, continually singing and skipping. boom! I get the look again, as well as the innocent little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar blush that always follows suit.

And it makes me think that maybe there is somebody out there. Perhaps not you, but someone, who will love everything about me. They will see all my works and sporadic hand motions, all my skipping and singing, and they will still look at me like that.

Like they wouldn't mind loving me every minute of everyday for the rest of my life. Like they couldn't care less who the hell was watching, they just needed to look at me cause damnit, I was somebody they never wanted to take their eyes off of, or somebody else might catch and hold my gaze instead.

The innocence in your staring and your smiling and your blushing gives me hope that somebody is going to give me that same look one night in ten-twenty years, and it won't mean anything demoralizing. It will simply be a look that says, 'Even though you are doing the most random thing right now that millions of other people are doing now too, I only want to watch you do it, because I love you so much that everything you do becomes increasingly more amazing to watch and watching you do so makes me fall more endlessly in love with you'

But again, I could be reading too much into this.
I mean, after all, it is simply a look.