Longing for Cursed Treasure

His tall silhouette against the sun
Draws me irresistibly closer.
He turns, and speaks to me.
My heart flutters strangely (shut up!)

Dark hair, dark arms, dark eyes.
Eyes that bore a hole into my soul
And see me for who I am, and what I'm not.
His sardonic smile flickers in and out.

I steady myself (stop it!) and listen
To strange ideas, piercing insights,
And incredible tales beyond imagination.
My intellect thrives on his.

The force of his personality
Is a vibrant inescapable magnet.
He lives dangerously, on the edge.
Someday he'll drag me over with him.

Oh! but I hate him, I hate him!
He stands for so much that I'm not.
(Damn him! I passionately wish he was in hell!)
He also stands far, far away...

Then he turns, and walks away.
I long to call out, reach out, anything!
Instead I stop and ask myself
"What is wrong with you, you fool?!"