Before the mirror his presence beamed.
In shock and horror, the mirror screamed
at his heartbeat
apart from me,
throbbing, ready to pop,
even talking, nonstop.
"Quiet, you fool," I whispered harshly,
yet the more he pestered me.
He spoke for me when we went out,
got all the attention with each shout.
A blush surrounded what I could not tame.
He held a bold stance, like a target for aim.
If only I could hide my face,
or take a wand and make an erase.
Even so, he'll go when he's ready,
and I'll have problems less petty.