Cinderfella
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So I bow before you and lightly touch your arm
Dear Sir, if I may?
You look up to me and I visualize a smile
behind the mask
Just like my smile, the one you can see
plastered on my face
The one I can't get off
And all the while I think that you can see
The thumping in my chest
Where my heart bursts out in fear
or anticipation or hope
I look down at you and lift you in my arms
And bury my nose in the wealth of curls
that smother my smile
All the while carrying you there with your
lips glued to my ear whispering
You sound surprised
Why me? There are so many here?
But I want only you
And then, at twelve, you lose your shoe
While I carry you to your carriage
But no fear, I will collect it
Find you again
And make you mine
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016
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