'araby' Revised

Setting: a cafe, chamonix, in hand a tea. Across- a woman, seated, not seeing me. Embarrassed I am, that I, a questionable I, like a lamb: 97 and 1 kilogram, am engulfed by her, like Noah by heavanly mer. Can I help it?- No! That this Helen this doe or maybe Annabel of Poe has transfixed me so No! For she, unbeknowest to anyone but me, has -- like a jockey to horse-- narrowed my vision, my every decision. My goals, my independent roles, are all now but foes Dürers'crows to that of this woman, to that of this Syren; A homeric vision calling my name, my thoughts [set completely in frame]. For she is Femme French, whose lip, whose tongue, whose unequaled gaze, melts hearts, muffles minds, and spirits sets a daze; She is a picture Romaine- a poetic refrain- a Cloud Loraine- Tout l'univers(se), turning perverse- all those once sane. And when you, pardon- she speaks; «please, more tea» she, unknowingly, speaks to me, wow, she trully speaks to me. Votre langue francais, what can I say. We in the west, at our best butcher and hack at our speach, yet you- lyrically spue- a harmonious coo, a ventricular breech.... Our « (c)(h)(o)(c)(o)(l)(a)(t)(e), » americanized, anglasized, Is not as sweet as your--- « chocolat »--- taste that mmmm-hmmm tis better, the way you pronounce every letter as in decrouver, or illuminer. To think, that this, your verbal kiss, turns me so amiss. But lets ((focus))- back to the Now, sitting in chair, starring at her hair- tied back, pulled back, let's get abstract: lips parted, bangs parted. Her cheeks lifted- my heart uplifted. Facial confusion! Her eyes whisper, « mister, » maybe sinister? Who knows, maybeee... the nose! Striking a pose- Running, twitching, creating true woes- in a heart that weeps, reeps, but rarely sows. Now you can see what she does to me. my mind is adrift, but who cares- What a Gift! To be lost in her presence- a humble peasant- in the present is a present. So- I'm sitting in a chair, staring, glaring, intimately at her, seeking, searching, for our eyes to meet, to greet, in lustful heat, for her to return my gaze and to be lost in that haze till the end of my days.... But wait.... What is this. Something is amiss. A realization, a *****? OH GOD.... I have a *****... ****. I'm just another creepy loner.