Embarrassment Harassment

This is another work in progress. I've been trying to take a leaf out of Indigo Williams' book who told me once she was really trying to push the boundaries of her comfort when writing, subjects like the one below are certainly things I tend to avoid

Eyes with grins,

found normally on faces,

burn skin and scan movement,

as I become,

painfully aware,

of every move,

I make.

Trying hard,

to make

a move,

to this,

pretty,

brunette.

Straight shiney hair,

slowly sliding,

to her,

shoulder blades,

gently bouncing,

off her back,

like,

the brush strokes,

of a delicate drummer,

providing a rhythm,

to accompany the jazz,

every time,

she answers,

one of my,

never ending,

stupid questions.

Paining a picture of perfection,

with my own,

internal airbrush,

whilst I muddy,

my frame,

fouling the air,

between

our heads,

with desperation,

as her attention,

towards me,

slowly diminishes,

like the fading light,

of a solitary car,

moving along,

a dark,

country lane.

In front of an audience,

of my mates,

laughing,

at my,

predictable

decline.