however initially weirded out by branson's "you love me, you just don't know it yet" tactic i was, this couple kind of snuck its way into my heart. i have a weakness for adorableness.
XXX
It's bully sport and it's open fight;
It will keep you busy both day and night;
For the toughest kind of a game you'll find
Is to make your body obey your mind
You never will know what is meant by grit
Unless there's something you've tried to quit.
She is an intelligent, independent young woman who knows what she wants. And she does not want to kiss the chauffeur.
She does not want to kiss the chauffeur when she spies on him working on the car, sleeves rolled up so that his forearms are bare.
She does not want to kiss the chauffeur when their eyes meet in the mirror as he drives her into town.
And she does not want to kiss the chauffeur when she lies awake at night, flinging the covers off of her legs in an attempt to relieve the heat that no one else seems to be experiencing.
And somehow, it changes from "she does not want to kiss the chauffeur" to "she does not want to kiss Branson." And then "Branson" becomes "Tom" and it takes every ounce of energy to focus, to concentrate on basic, everyday tasks, because she runs into doors, she runs into doors she is so determined not to kiss the chauffeur.
It's not as if kissing the chauffeur would be unpleasant, necessarily. She is sure that Branson is a nice enough fellow, and kissing him would not be entirely without its benefits. To another girl, kissing Branson might be fun, even, although she has a tendency to break things whenever she considers the possibility of another girl. But she doesn't want to. Kiss the chauffeur. She doesn't want to kiss the chauffeur. Yes.
Although.
Those forearms.
XXX
poem by edgar albert guest.