CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL - A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
Written by junglejane on May 9, 2008 – 5:26 pm -Tall shoes, short dress, long hair, polished, and glossy.
Fresh from head to toe? No!
It can’t be the same girl with what seemed to be day old dirt
crammed under her nails and outling her cuticles.
Her legs are shaved?! I assumed wrong.
Her hair is so shiny. So unlike the dull dirty brown I saw matted to the sweat on her face.
As cute as she was there dirty with a pick in her hand, I brushed her off as not my type.
Tonight she smelled like the tropical flowers in her garden.
Not like how she smelled while planting those tropical flowers.
Thinking back, how could I have mistaken that sweaty scent for anything less than pure sex?
How could I have missed her natural radiant beauty?
Was I blinded by the sun as I stood so close to the equator?
Does she carry the equator with her between her legs?
She looks like poetry and speaks in stanzas with no rhyme.
Or at least that is how I read her.
I watched her as she walked around her new yard
with an expression on her face like she lost something
when she sees me, her expression changes, relaxes
She says ‘Hi’ to me in a relieved tone of voice.
“There you are”, I say, “I was looking for you.”
She smiles and turns her head slightly
as she slips her hair behind her ear.
A silence passed while we held eye contact.
“I forgot what I wanted,” I said
She gave me a shy smile as her cheeks blushed.
He came up from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her blushed cheek.
She introduced him to me with apologetic eyes.
I shook his hand and studied his face.
I looked at him then at her then back at him.
Trying hard to reserve judgement,
I wondered if those apologetic eyes were for me or for herself.
The girl disappeared for minute to pace around her new yard,
again like she lost something.
The boy and I sat to get to know each other on their porch
I was skeptical, hyper aware of his personal hygiene,
but holding out hope for great redeeming qualities
There had to be something special about this guy.
He had her.
I can say now that she is the special thing about the guy.
And that is about it.
When she comes to my house, she lingers.
I want her to stay and she stays.
Her eyes remind me of Venus.
I wish she didn’t have to go home.
Somewhere inside her, she wishes she didn’t have to either.
Why do women settle? I realize that I do not know the details of my girlfriend’s relationship with her man, but I can feel her sadness. I can see that the spark is there and then it isn’t when he comes around. It makes me want to hold her. I want her to see her own beauty. I want her to be appreciated. Ultimately it is none of my business so I keep my distance.
On the special occasions where we get to sit down and have girl talk over glasses of red wine and loaded bowls, I make sure she knows I’m here for her if she needs a friend. My hand is out to her and she can hold it whenever she wants.
XOXOOXOX
Jungle Jane
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