Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)The Antidote
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2009
This degree of beauty⦠There's no way it was ever meant to be attained by mortals.
No, surely only a goddess could ever be this exquisite.
But here she sits. Not far away, paying attention so carefully to the teacherâs lecture. I canât help but admire even the most simple details of her form. The gorgeous freckles dotting the delicate, lovely pale skin of her face, the way her eyes pay attention to the presentation being given, no matter how excruciatingly monotonous it is. Even her soft, gentle voice echoes of a welcoming caring nature that I canât help but fall in love with.
Such a woman is not meant for me, this I know. I could never consider myself worth her attention, even for a fleeting moment. Touching her, perhaps even speaking to her, is a sin, the only sin, I could never engage in. At her request, though, I would put myself at her feet unquestioningly. I would happily care for her with unrequited love, just to be in her court.
When sheâs near, I have no strength to speak. The confidence I would boast in any other situation is stolen instantly. A glance from her hypnotizing eyes could bring me to my knees. A touch from her hand would leave me mute for a week.
But I must avert my gaze. I must listen to the voice in my pained mind that tells me not to look, not to touch, not to speak.
Because deep down I know, that as I am undeserving, itâs better to have a longing heart than a broken heart.
No, surely only a goddess could ever be this exquisite.
But here she sits. Not far away, paying attention so carefully to the teacherâs lecture. I canât help but admire even the most simple details of her form. The gorgeous freckles dotting the delicate, lovely pale skin of her face, the way her eyes pay attention to the presentation being given, no matter how excruciatingly monotonous it is. Even her soft, gentle voice echoes of a welcoming caring nature that I canât help but fall in love with.
Such a woman is not meant for me, this I know. I could never consider myself worth her attention, even for a fleeting moment. Touching her, perhaps even speaking to her, is a sin, the only sin, I could never engage in. At her request, though, I would put myself at her feet unquestioningly. I would happily care for her with unrequited love, just to be in her court.
When sheâs near, I have no strength to speak. The confidence I would boast in any other situation is stolen instantly. A glance from her hypnotizing eyes could bring me to my knees. A touch from her hand would leave me mute for a week.
But I must avert my gaze. I must listen to the voice in my pained mind that tells me not to look, not to touch, not to speak.
Because deep down I know, that as I am undeserving, itâs better to have a longing heart than a broken heart.