Ficlets

I was thinking the other day,
When a woman steals my heart,
She’s not a woman, but a girl

I’ve never heard,
“I met the cutest woman today,”
Only
“The cutest girl.”

Because I know that men are never more than little boys
When he’s walking up to a woman’s door
He rings the bells and holds out the flowers

Maybe if she opened her eyes
She would see a little boy
Drooping flower held in closed fist
At arms length
Eyes squeezed shut, face wrinkled and mouth pursed

If she opened her eyes
Her left ankle would curl behind and around
Her right ankle
Suddenly shy, her body would twist away
And then twist back

If she opened her eyes
She would know what to do
In this situation

Maybe she would step past
His clenched fist
Past his outstretched arm and bedraggled flower
And, no longer shy,
Kiss him
Feeling his pursed lips widen
Into a broad smile

But maybe she wouldn’t open her eyes
And all she would see
Would be a tall man with a bouquet of roses,
Confident and collected

And wonder what to do