You Do It For
When we are all settled in our tasks, you come out to sit on the porch. Today you brought a book with you. I noticed because of your way: innocent, genuine, pure. It is like dainty fingers dragging gentling down my back. My lids are relaxed and a small smile appears. I am excessively soothed. I’m trying to understand more though. I see your bare feet are part of it; your heels pivoted outwards and your toes resting on top of the others. Your book is lying flat in your lap so you are leaning forward with your hands free to twist the stray strands from the bottom of your ponytail. My favorite feature of this performance of sorts is your slightly tilted head; just reading along peacefully. I gathered all of this in moments but I’ll remember for a while. Tomorrow I’ll search for your humbly sanded hair and see if you wouldn’t mind a partner in all this. We’ll just read together and you can teach me to do it right. Then some future can understand the beauty of watching a girl imagine. Even though I’m not a girl, I’ll make sure to emulate the proper affect, you see.