The Vixenpixie

Mirror mirror against this wall
Who is it that loves you more?

Me who searches the lady that stays within you
Or the one who faces me with an expression I can only feel
Looking at curves and dips that only exist when I’m staring at her
Me who searches for things faintly available,
Imperfections in spades, perfection in ways
Eyes larger than slits, smaller than orbs,
Bright browns of bleeding hazel
glistening with hidden conceited secrets
and daydreams of days under the searing sun

With one comes the other
Those thoughts that are not quite mine, not quite hers
If I cock my head to the side, it is to appreciate the fluid curve of her neck
If I lick my lips with intent, it is to see how her tongue runs slowly over those full lips

Is she any more beautiful than I am?
My hands can feel…

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