Poet

Wonder

Some days I wonder if a man just looks at a woman, and thinks, She is so beautiful.

I wonder if they notice the way she lays, always on her left, never on her right.

And the way she smells, like a perfume that costed too much but she uses a small amount a day, so it's worth it.

Or the way she reads, the same page over and over because the words speak to her. Same with songs, the repeat button has been broken on that one song that she could tell you every word to.

I wonder if he notices the way she's broken, but she doesn't stay shattered, being cut by her own pieces, she picks them up and puts them together as she smiles on at her life, because honestly she has it good.

I wonder if he notices the way she loves, and the way she smiles at her thoughts when she is thinking about something she loves.

I wonder if he notices how she sees the world, and thinks, this is beautiful.