He was eccentric. His axis was completely off compared to everybody elses. but that's what was inviting about him. On the days he worked, he came home to me smelling like disinfectant and day old cigarettes. He said the hospital was tough. so many people a day dying, so many people a day injured, or terminally ill. On his breaks he would inhale smoke, breathe smoke, live smoke. ( He said it calmed his nerves.) I'll give him one thing though -- His eyes were full of expression. His body was dead, it died long ago with former loves, former whats-her-names and former mistakes. But his eyes. oh, those eyes. they were not haunting, but beautiful.... and that is why even though he was the world's worst dancer, I still loved him. he wanted to drown in me. and I wasn't ready for a swim like that. I'm sure he came home that last evening, I'll call it the last supper (If you'll excuse me.) with his empty camel lights pack, and his eyes brightly shining, and that horrid disinfectant musk. I can't seem to find what I need. But I'll make a list, and I'll hide it from myself. But I will tell you this, I need someone who will look me in the eyes. and take me over. You could be the worst person to walk the earth ( and belive me, I've fallen for a few)....but your eyes could make my knees weak. and make my smile brighter. and make me nervous and a fumbling fool. Make me stutter. make my heart beat faster. make everything....all the colors in the world..... bleed together into a backdrop on which to admire you.