I always fall for lean men, like Cassius. Men whose eyes shoot laser beams that slice through your heart. Men with no hatred or suspicion of the world, but who still stand apart with a light air of distrust. Tall men. Men who smoke. Men with wiry limbs and long, tapering fingers. Men with soft brown eyes and sudden smiles. No Greek Gods, no Schwarzeneggers, no Wild Hogs for me. I always fall for men who fade into the sunshine.
But I can never kiss them, and I can never love them, for I have pledged my heart to a familiar stranger whose warm cheek against my cheek and heartbeat against my breast take me, finally, home.