The You I Desire

I saw you between the glass.

The glass that was created,

A hopeful tactic to separate my dreams from

reality.

You sit next to a former lover.

I imagine my small wrists being carried

in your massive hands.

Your eyes are a ceremonial sea.

Without your words, I will only

imagine your tender voice.

I accept a dance with a top-shelf groomsman.

I keep my distance.

You watch me as my skirt catches wind,

raising an eyebrow as I giggle.

Your girl stands up with her red lips first

And she pulls you up in one fluid motion.

I follow your path near the restroom.

Rachel Berry presses her button nose to your chest.

An amiable, but naive gesture.

My thick skin would fit you better.

A brittle crutch for a great white shark,

it wouldn't last.

Not with me, quick-witted and relishing power.

An hour's up, you take the stand.

Your words echo in the crowds ears.

You take your time,

with a moments time you look down at the big bountiful curls as expected.

Little miss Lea could have been fooled.

But you want me.

Me and my imperfect chapped lips,

I watch you as I please.

A scornful look transmits over your face.

But you want me.

Her friends dressed in white giggle and play with

her hair, she "is next for matrimony."

I walk out to my tiny red Ford.

The last glass from Bordeaux tickling my throat.

She is left sobbing in a velvet lined Limo,

You run over to me and we stare at one another

once our lips part.

You are going to drown with me.

And I, with you.