She’s beautiful, and she laughs at my jokes!

The Tramp and the Gamin

A woman of no Earthly likeness

SHE’S BEAUTIFUL AND SHE  LAUGHS AT MY JOKES! What more could a man want in a woman? Hell, she doesn’t even have to be beautiful, but it’s always a nice touch, like hot chocolate syrup on strawberries; a delightful warm, with a chilled core, insatiably tickling the pallet of the most refined culinary critic. And what’s more but when all the world pressed at her and wore her delicate frame out, stretching her outwards to the farthest degree of the infinitesimally dismal, she found away to snap back, and make time for me; giving me a smile, and those seven heavenly numbers, which – being mine – would make me the bane of many a teenage romantic’s existence.

Now it may be the desire of the reader, for it is certainly wished by me, that a picture in words be painted of this magnificent specimen meld from the cast which God set aside until it’s most recent creation had completed it’s time on earth, at which point, opening a position for yet another one of a kind, who will, nonetheless, never be the same. But my desert rose shall remain a mystery until the revelation and proclamation of my inflamed emotions can be exclaimed above and beyond the wall of cowardice that hinders every man’s soul from saying what many individuals long to hear. In short, do I have the balls to tell this woman how I feel? Not yet, but those seven magnificent numbers have given me hope, possibly clouded by false pretenses. But nonetheless, hope.

Woman whom I speak, your name shall forth-with from my lips be beauty. The dire consequence of my love being fear, I will pray for the strength to conquer the savage beast which tames my soul; the Delilah to my Samson; the hand over the iniquitous minister’s heart. SHE’S BEAUTIFUL AND SHE LAUGHS AT MY JOKES! What more could a man want in a woman?

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