You sit in front of me and I try to look at you. To discern meaning from the way the lines on your glowing freckled face contract, expand and quiver. I try to make sense of how your smile flickers and the way your dimples blush making eternal impressions for my mind to taste. Sweet, quaint and intoxicating. You scrunch your nose, and I waddle in the miasma of your display. Still I try to look at you, to be in the moment, but the way your eyes pierce into mine inverses my attention. I get a little self-conscious, a little preoccupied with the mystery of the contents of your mind, of how experience has shaped the grooves in your head. Your lips flutter and in your murmurings a mellifluous tune is produced. I could close my eyes and melt into it. Your white dazzling teeth draw me in, I catch myself ogling and wondering about how strange it is to have teeth, they are nature’s version of kitchen utensils. I vicariously watch as you eat your food, your face beaming with pleasure. I’m basking in the effect you have on me, the tumultuous soup that becomes of my thoughts and feelings. And when you are gone I still can’t see you, just mind candy to be tussled with.