I can see people looking at you
I am busy finding flaws in the perfect shade of your lipstick
My jealousy refusing to admit my futile efforts in doing so
My weeping flats and your proud stilettos,
My over-sized jeans and your figure embracing dress,
My disheveled backpack and your ultra-stylish handbag,
My neglected hair and your pampered locks of ocean waves
How do I stop making note of these stupid details?
Of how I keep glancing through my nerdish unclean spectacles
At your insanely seductive and infuriating sunglasses.
You, beautiful witch.