Beautiful Stranger,
Whoever you are.
Stealing away my soul,
Steps you build in your stride.
Is this the lover I never had?
Clothed in luxury brands while cigarette on hand,
Chain-smoking like a chimney,
Face in the fog of that nicotine pack.
Portly and tall in silhouette,
The voice of a high price, high road player.
You are wild and uncouth a ruffian,
Big and rough like a bear,
But quietly in fur tenderness,
I wish I could draw in closer.
You strut like a storm,
A tornado wind in the mindful heads,
Like the earth have no hold and won’t soil you.
You say grand words stopping short ever so clumpsily,
As though it should be understood vague,
While the rest of what it means is just action to take.
That Man should not say much but prove change,
To be more than the young ways of youth.
You are not for me,
As I am not for you.
But you seem to last and stir the blood in me,
Leaving behind the longing of you.
So here you are,
I have only seen you so brief,
Again trying to sniff your wafted breath,
Just moments you spoke, walked and left by.
-Vander
Disclaimer: All poetry and fiction here are original material written by Vander. Please note that all text references, descriptions and indications are purely fictional (make-believe if you didn’t know what fiction is!) and is in no relation to any actual entities).
