Let me tell you what people see when they look at you.
In the first few milliseconds when they lay their eyes upon your face, they will be entranced and not be able to look away. They will stare at you for a few seconds more, not even realizing you already have them under your spell. It must be the way your luscious lips curve upwards in a mischievous, carefree smile, or the glint in your eyes that’s both sexy and playful at the same time. It could be the way you carry yourself, how you seem so cool and collected, walking in confident strides like a motherfucker who owns the world. Your boyish charm mixed with your ruggedly handsome looks will always command stares; this is how you magnetize people’s eyes to you. And they will continue to watch you until you disappear from the crowd; only then will your spell on them be broken.
It’s a pity that they only get to see you and not experience you.
Let me tell you what I see when I look at you.
When we’re alone in your room with the curtains drawn and the lights dim, when you’re not dressed in your designer clothes but bare naked between the tangled sheets, I see not your boyish charm nor your poised composure, or that sexy, playful glint in your eyes that they all see when you face the world during the day. I don’t see the superficial behind closed doors.
What I see is a man, in every sense of the word. Any boy can claim to be a real man without knowing the complexities and responsibilities that go along with the title. The road to becoming the man you are now wasn’t easy; I know because you have walked me through some of the deepest, darkest alleys you have traversed at different points in your life. You have not only stumbled in the dark; you have fallen hard, crawled on your knees, and wounded yourself trying to claw your way out of the abyss. Yet even at rock bottom, even as you were heavily scarred and broken by the world, you did not let despair consume you. Instead, you embraced the fire of pain and let it forge you into an unyielding person who’s wise beyond his years.
Let me tell you what I hear when I listen to you.
I hear not only the low, rich, and alluring voice that everybody else hears, but also the mysteries and marvels laced through your rich baritone. Your voice is comforting; it has the power to wrap me in a loving embrace, even without your touch.
But it can also be scalding at times. You can rain the dirtiest curses and raise hell during arguments, especially when we’re both exasperated and furious and angry at the same time. Your voice can clash against mine in the most turbulent way, until we can no longer hear each other or get anything settled. Yet you have the ability to raise your voice to a certain tone that commands my attention and makes me listen, regardless of how angry I am.
I also hear the passion and excitement in your voice when you speak of your career, your future goals, and all the things that move, drive, and enliven you. You speak of great stories, of worlds beyond what I’ve seen, of things I’ve yet to experience. And you share to me pieces of advice that I don’t hear from anyone else. You talk to me in a kind yet mature way, molding me into a woman I’ve yet to become.
Let me tell you what I feel when I touch you.
Desire spreads through me like wildfire; fireworks explode in my body when you lock me in your arms. You awaken all parts of me and move in rhythm with the beat of my heart. Every time we kiss, the heat of your passion courses from your body to my lips and down to every inch of my skin. Your touch eclipses everything; your scent intoxicates my senses; your fire engulfs me. We are set ablaze. During these moments, only you and I exist in the world.
Let me tell you what I unearth when I look into your eyes.
I see a possessed angel, one whose wings are burning, whose light is chased by darkness. Demons lurk in the farthest depths of your soul; some are caged, but most of them roam free inside you. I could see them writhing and twisting when we lock eyes. They are waiting, wanting release, eager to wreak havoc, hungry for blood. They wish to rip the angel apart, to swallow your light whole.
Let me know them that have the power to possess an angel such as you. Pull me in, throw me into the war of heaven and hell waged inside your heart. Put me at the mercy of your darkest demon; I want to smell the stench of decaying love and dying dreams. In your dark brown orbs, I see the wreckage of a soul that has fought many battles. Yet I also see a glimmer of hope, of all things good, of light coming through from the cracks of your broken soul.
I am not here to exorcise the angel and release it from its captivity. I will not sift through the shattered pieces of your soul to find your light. I am not here to save you; I will not change you. We are both empty. But I am with you, in wars and darkness and dreams and hopes. I will burn with you. We will be an inferno.