Drop dead gorgeous
were the first words
that escaped my lips
and I wrote back to him,
"So, do you have a
real name or should I
just call you
Prince Charming?"
He reminded me of the boy
I had a crush on all
through high school,
and in his picture,
he looked just as
nice in blue jeans,
tan legs beneath
rolled up cuffs
as he stood in
ocean water, some
splashed upon legs,
darkening the denim,
feuling my imagination.
I read his e-mail,
"I see you are a nurse.
I am a doctor, so we
will have something
in common..."and
as I read his other
more flirtatious comments,
my heart gave a small leap
of excitement.
He had sent three e-mails,
and I had just discovered them,
and his exotic looks were the
reason I signed up for an
Urdu poetry site, wanting
to know all I could know
about his second language,
his culture.
I was very nervous,
wanted him to like me,
wanted to meet him,
determined to guard my heart,
not let him in as quickly
as I have others in the past.
I must be careful,
not scare him away with
my intensity, my passion,
remember that men love
a little mystery.
I am not very good
at holding on to love...
but I think this one
might be worth the wait.
So, I will flirt back
and be patiently coy,
steal the glass slipper
and mould it to my
specifications.
Maybe this time,
Cinderella won't have to
leave the ball.
I want to finish
dancing with my prince.
