What kinda woman shall I be?
What kinda woman does he need?
Perhaps it’s one of the red lipsticked long legged gals who are sultry, in thier stride? Careful not to crack the illusion of a perfect statuesque beauty with any laugh or too big a smile. The kinda girl who is shrouded in mystery by keeping her mouth closed. Classic and classy? Could that be the kinda girl whom he needs? One who doesn’t stumble on her rickety knees. Tryin to fit into boots two sizes too small?
Or does he love those country girls who look good in almost anything? Ready to throw on a cap at a moments notice and get down and dirty so they can tumble together in the leaves.
I want to be the type of girl he’s proud to hold in his hands. The type of girl who’s gonna turn heads. The one that sits across from him at dinner and you can tell he’s proud to have her as a reflection of who he is. I want to be that type of girl who looks stunning under the anal creations of his perfect lighting. I just want to be his.
These are the things I think about while in between dreams. Always cuddled with my pillows and my nose pressed up against his imaginary chest. My bed has become my favorite place to be. A sanctuary of my one memory. Where him and I made love. Where I was loved. Where I was held. Where I was the the number wanted girl.
But he wanted me no more. For I wasn’t the kinda girl he needs. And who exactly is she? What kinda girl can catch his eyes? Because I tell ya now, that girl will be so lucky to be the apple of his eyes. I know what it’s like to be on his type of high. Smooth like rhythm and blues is my guy. Cool like top gun smiles and winks that make you lean back into the shadows as the redness fills your cheeks. A little bit of country as he rocks back in his boat. A little bit of frugal boojiua when he brings you cheap handheld box wines while you converse at picnic tables. But what’s this? He couldn’t even bring cheese? Ugh, pleeeease. Hes a computer geek. Beep boop beep as he types away upon his keys. That real sexy type of texnoligically nerdy. That man can fix cars! Mow the lawn all day and at night bring back into the house for his woman, all the night stars.
A man of his caliber will have his first pick of the flock that rushes toward him. But this Cinderella doesn’t adorn the dresses so pretty that will make him look at the back of the line for me. I’m the one patiently waiting, dreaming, and writing. I’m the one with the greatest of loyalty for my muse. My italian angel statue. Chislesd by these great hands I’ve cultivated from the 14th century. He is my greatest piece. Unfinished he is. And shall I ever reveal him? I’m conflicted in my thoughts. Or cover him up and put him in the corner to collect dust.
In the core of my belly he has left me his seed. Something I can take away forever with me. A pice of his DNA inside me. I gleam. I want to have his babies!!! No shhhhhh quiet, your talking crazy! Haha. But on a serious note, I’ve penciled in the date I’d want to be married. And have the wedding I’ve never had with the one and only man of my dreams. A poor girl who’s sometimes a fantastic poet stuck in her love for a man who’s way out of her leauge. Unrequited love, is what we call this lady.
Could you ever be the type of girl that he needs? or shall I be doomed to live the life of a queen without a king?
You see, the love of my life will one day call another woman his wife and that will be the end of the world.
La fin.
