For Puff

i've just said something funny. a perfect face on a body built like both sizes of marshmallows in perfectly stacked puffs is smiling. then laughing. then speaking in flirty tones as fingers brush my shoulder. the marshmallows are soft and warm like fresh out of the bag and microwaved to an almost liquid state (but not exactly). virtual scoops of the stuff speaking in visual girly rhythms. fluffy and bouncing and next to dancing as it laughs. almost too painful for a simple human to look at. somehow more than alive and flowing with it's own inner heat as it moves warmly through both time and space at the same moment. on a trip across a timeline without either limits or a worry. then i watch and melt a bit myself as you pass me in this narrow doorway. sometimes my hands reach out to caress you. sometimes they don't. i'm never sure of the impending reaction. i'm willing to take a chance at least half the time however. it goes either way. you hold me close or squirm to freedom. both feel fine as i'm not all that forceful or determined. but my heart always reaches. sometimes when mearly aware that you are in the next room. or a town or two away. and when you laugh hard enough your head moves forward and back in near jerky nods. your hair bounces as well. it dances on it's own to the music of your giggling. then your tongue wets your lips. and that is why i often bark at you like a dog in a bad cartoon.