His Mona Lisa

From the moment her saw her he envisaged something unobtainable like The Mona Lisa. She was drawing him into her mantrap magnetic magic, her enegmatic Mona Lisa moment in the photograph. He was under her spell. Him! A bright angel six foot eight inches tall!

Encased in her olive skin that pored into an aesthetic face were her sleepy eyes that gazed at him, but it was only a dream, she wasn't really gazing at him, she was gazing at the viewers.

With her salient swarthy skin and brown eyes, with her vitreous umber hair casting her face, she was totally falling into one golden brown reality, her. Her warm woody world felt close, yet she was extraneous, bewildering, she was from far away, and where, where was she from? He thought it must be further than Japan. Japan was his world until her glimpsed her's. It would take two to build it up into his.

It would be high, the two of them being together. Although she had a boyfriend he was not married to her. He would marry her. He would give her his children. It would be the part of her in them that he would like to reproduce. As their world grew, he would be the gentle giant. He would be her angel too.

He had made contact. He had let her know he thought her beautiful. Then afterwards she filled out his questionair and when she got to the question on whether the answerer would kiss him she had answerd yes. Yes she would kiss him. She would kiss him but would she love him? When asked did the answerer love him she had answerd that she loved all her friends. Of course, of course, she had yet to meet him, but if she met him would he make her love him?

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After allot of typing and exchanging of words they decided to meet.