Why must bad look so good

He stands there, with the power to support a nation, casually reclined against an equally seductive truck, with a cloud of smoke hovering about him; a slight turn of his head and glance of his eyes tells me he has noticed me too. The powerful body beckons to me. Oh what an enticing man of mystery.

I remain calm and strive to appear indifferent, doing everything in my power to keep my eyes anywhere but on him- glancing this way and that way like a crazy woman: all the while standing within arms reach to this composed and controlled man of compelling mystery.

His eyes are dark and dangerous. My eyes long to explore more- and my hands along with them. But I have an image to uphold, expectations to live up to. Such actions would create a scandal, cause an uproar- because to them, i'm no mystery: i abide by their presuppositions and continue to hide the truth.

In their eyes i do not stand tall enough to stand with the mystery man who has bewitched my mind.

~because of you~