Slow Motion

 

There is nothing like watching you sitting solitary,
in your own world nursing a bottle of beer.
Your gaze turns inward as you watch bubbles form,
on the bottom of your mug foaming to the top.

I watch you take a sip of that yellow liquor,
and how your lips form a thin line of distaste.
Yet you downed the whole drink effortlessly,
and I could see that your mind’s already wandering.

How can I not see that it was you who held my gaze?
Even from afar you’re the one my eyes keep coming back to?
Heaven help me, I think I’m falling,
for you’re moving in slow motion,
and my heart’s beating rapidly.

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