it plays... i can't stop listening. all the world is as it was meant to be seen. and everytime i blink, i see it all over again for the first time.
and you tell me, i am even more beautiful than all of this. and i know you mean it.
my eyes lower and i remember...
the memory of this one and that one becomes one face. a handsome face i would dote upon with the swaying motion of a school girl's first crush. my heart flutters and hiccups at his affectionate attention. i search his eyes, but they're good at telling stories, and i, foolish girl, love reading them. and he gazes back at me, pupils dilated in a drunken haze of passion as lovers do, but he never sees past my skin and bones. i am simply a prize to be won. he says all the right words, but it's all been said before to countless other girls. i'm not the first to see this broadway performance. and if, deep down, i knew that, i never wanted to believe it was true. i made-believe it was opening night for a special audience of one.
or perhaps it's him... the unwanted gaze from that over-eager friendly face. his eyes roaming, diverting, planning, pretending to be thoughtful, while undressing and laying me bare. no matter what face, what name. they are all one in the same. but all those...
so easy. so sure. disarming all alarms. words. empty and all of them meaningless in his conquest, to make himself feel more like a man, not to make me feel his love. because, in his eyes i'm as money. he'll stop at nothing to get it, and once he's won with that hand, he'll up the stakes and play for more. the last pot of winnings forgotten, and on to the next. if at first he doesn't succeed, he moves to the next phase like a shrewd businessman...hungry rich fool panting for more. and so, now he looks long enough to learn the lines that are etched into the heart on my sleeve. for no other reason than, it's the groundwork for the deal. unbeknownst to me, of course... and so he takes his time, his venom coated in honey lures me further in. and he'll stop at nothing until he finds my moment of weakness. he makes an offer drenched in lies, and hopes i won't refuse. maybe i don't. and maybe i do. i did. but my answer irrelivant, he'll take what he came for anyway.
and when it's over, as he walks me to his door, he'll convince me it was all my own doing...and it is he who is the victim of my ruthless ambition to conquer a poor warm-blooded man. the door closes.
and everytime i sink to the ground.
and here comes the shame.
here comes the fear.
and another vow to myself that i will never let him get me again.
and as quickly as the memory comes, you speak, and it all flies away... almost as though it can't get away from your voice fast enough. forgotten like ashes scattered across the sea on the winds that feel like the sound of your name.
it's like hearing my favourite song... it plays... i can't stop listening. all the world is as it was meant to be seen. and everytime i blink, i see it all over again for the first time. and you tell me, i am even more beautiful than all of this. and i know you mean it.
i lift my eyes and now, i believe you. and i cannot remember any other face.