Love letter # 101

How could I have known that my ten o’clock would turn out to be you.

I had no defences deployed – no armour against eyes. Nothing could have prepared me for your gorgeous mouth, the curve of your shoulders, the hint of freshly showered skin. Now I’m butterflies.

Or perhaps I’m just an overly optimistic angler, misinterpreting tugs as bites. Maybe you’re like this with everyone.

I’ve been around long enough to have no idea.

I look at the scar lines etched all over me and I wonder if I can bear another. I wonder if no is worth the chance of yes. Or vice versa.

I have your number. I could call you this minute. I’m sure I could invent a pretext.

Ah, but the sensible adult thing would be to do nothing; to mark it down to the enervating effects of spring sunshine and good coffee. Safer that way. I walk off with a little caffeinated buzz on – maybe catch you in the course of things and see if those opal eyes are still flashing lovely fire at me.

Either way, beauty is transforming and you have changed my day – probably my week. In all likelihood these syllables will vanish into meek but totally mature silence and neither of us will ever have to be embarrassed.

But just in case …

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