John Hawkins (hawk) wrote,
John Hawkins

something I've been meaning to get off my chest for several years:

I saw you at the ART in Frisco. You were there with a couple of older women. I came down from the mezzanine, and you were at the foot of the stairs. Humbly beautiful, with no noticeable makeup or fancy clothes, you glowed.

You are amazing. In my memory, as at that moment, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I could not breath for several seconds, and yet that was no excuse. You are shocking. You are a cozy nap on a heating vent and the first submersion in cool water at the same time. I never wanted to leave your presence. But some sense of social impropriety moved me to walk away. To not stare. To not intrude.

And I said nothing. And at this moment, that is my greatest regret.

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