I Beseech You

“Attraction doesn’t rush.
It adjusts.”

I beseech you.

Anxiety climbs

when I see you.

I move to the other side

just to let you through.

I don’t think you’re cute—

I assure you,

you’re beautiful.

Exceptional.

You don’t need Chanel.

Maybe something out of Tiffany’s.

Diamonds are forever, and

the ten-millimeter white studs

bring out your eyes more clearly.