Her Mind’s Eye

Not very frequently…
     I see a girl looking at me.
     Not noticing me,
     Astutely studying me.

     Her eyes:
         feeling up my chest
         running through my hair
         wrapping around my waist.

     When they return to my eyes
     They blink with a blush.

There might be…
     A girl thinking of me.
     Restful reverie before slumber,
     Final fantasy on her pillow.

     Regretting:
         the minutes we didn’t spend together
         dogmas never discussed
         my absence from her bed.

     She drifts to sleep with
     Her arms around my vision.

It’s not entirely impossible that…
     I’m on a piece of paper somewhere.
     Object of an ode,
     Subject of a song.

     Chanting:
         of my beauty
         of my essence
         of my essentialality.

     Much like the Muses
     I have loved, unanswered.