No one can view or steal the mental photographs
I made of you last night underneath clear skies.
The pictures extended beyond the surface layer of skin
protecting our insides from bodily harm, but exposing
them to conversation, attraction, and permanent smiles.
No one can explain the image I hold of you in my head--
asking for a pen and writing thoughtful words onto paper.
Bright lights and pop music could not compete
with your intelligence or attention as you remained focused
on the mission at hand--impacting with words and meaning.
We forgot where we were for a brief moment last night,
but only the connection of our eyes could decipher
the direction our hearts were being taken.
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