Photoetry

Your face is out-of-focus, stranger, and maybe you're crying under the weight of your hair, maybe you're blushing beet red under there... but I'll never know. I could make up stories about you all night. I imagine when you smile, dimples crease your cheeks and fireflies appear in your eyes, but traffic will never stop dead for you. I imagine you're one-of-a-kind caught up in a sea of average. You'll laugh when fingertips tickle your heels and your heart beats just the same as mine beneath your skin. You're a writer or a singer who hasn't been discovered. You're a princess whose bright crown has yet to be uncovered.