My Aphrodisiac

Her beauty was spellbinding. When she walked into a room her hips swishing from side to side, an impish grin on her perfect cupid bow lips. Oh what I would give to feel those lips against mine. Her eyes, great pools of green, green like emeralds, eyes of innocence, eyes I lusted over. Her hair would cascade down her back like great silk sheets of honey, to run my hands through her hair would be like nirvana. I adored, I wanted, I lusted after this sensual, bewitching aphrodisiac of a girl, that wasn't quite yet a women. Yet, I never even knew her name.
Everyday I would go to a quaint little cafe just around the corner from champs elysee, the staff were just about adequate, the food, well the food was magnificent. It became my ritual at three everyday I would head for this little cafe, have a coffee or 2, or 3 when I was feeling in the depths of dispair over my loner status. Then I would spend the rest of the day roaming around Paris, it's electric megnetism always drawing me in, untill one day I feared Paris would swallow me whole.
One ordinary day as I was sitting in this cafe, festering in my own thoughts, in came this creature, this divine, perfectly formed creature. I was enchanted by her. I tryed to act relativly sane, although nobody thought I was sane, I was in the habit of muttering to myself occasionally, but this girl rendered me speechless. I knew at that moment that I had fallen in love, that I would never love someone as much as this girl, she and she alone was the object of my only desire. Then before I had time to gather my thoughts she was gone, she'd surrendered herself to Paris's bosom.
The next day I walked to the cafe in a trance, one thought in my mind, will I see her again. I sat down in my usual spot, ordered my usual coffee and waited. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, just when I had given up hope, just when I considered giving myself to the Seine, because life was not worth living without her, in she floated. Well if my happiness could speak words I'd tell every soul in Paris about the love I felt for this, this piece of perfection that had just walked in. I watched her, I didn't take my eyes off her, I watched as she sat down, I watched as the waitress took her order, I watched as she drank her coffee and read a book, I watched as she walked out of my life, again.
I waited in the cafe the next day determined that I would speak to her, determined that she would know who I was, determined that one day she would love me. I waited excitment pumping through my veins harder than any drug, I waited knowing that despite my oddness, despite my quirks, she would one day love me. I waited and I waited, but she never came. That night I walked through Paris, hoping to find comfort in the women that surrendered themselves to Paris's streets.
I went back to that cafe everyday and as I write this I am in that cafe, I come here everyday because I am waiting, waiting for my aphrodisiac to return to me, one day I know she will.
The End