First Impressions

His aloofness,

Beautifully rendered

Like a meteoroid,

Stony.

His wandering eye,

A shooting star darting

Across the map of her face,

Connecting the dots.

A mole

Sits above her lips

Defying perfect symmetry.

The irony
In a beauty spot
And in his orbit changing.

It is a science.

A hide and seek in interbeing space until

The chase:

He enters her atmosphere

At destructive velocity

Assuming the light of God, in her darkness.

Or

Assuming the light of God in her darkness.

Misguided.

Whom?

She thinks she knows his kind

In her midst burns his guise.

Exposed in this match.

The catch:

Fireball, Ego,

Caught out.

An unlucky streak,

Perhaps, for both.

…

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