Golden Cloaked Knight, I am sure that I have seen you before. For it is as if I am no stranger to your taste and am no stranger to your touch.
Even your smile has a familiar glow to my eyes, tempting and calling out to me, beckoning for approach. Am I really just meeting you? But this cannot be, for our eyes have touched easily as if they previously danced together as partners of life.
I inhale your presence and my body already responds with each breath to your fragrance, as if it woke to your perfurmed scent for centuries.
My heart beats faster as it tries to reach out to you, yet with each attempt it shyly steps backward into my chest as if it knew you all too well.
Why is it that my eyes refuse to fully focus on your beauty. As chiseled as that beauty may be; my eyes only glance fearfully as if staring at you may result in the suicide granted by the snakes of Medusa’s crown.
My sense are all aware of your presence, alive and vibrant to each word, sound and action delivered by you.
Are you a golden friend lost over eons? That your simple encounter brings my being alive?
Or are you a disguised familiar foe whose approach and presence rises my senses into proactive mode as a hedgehog prepares for attack?
As the wolf lays hidden between the sheep, awaiting for their defenses to leave. Have you come to me awaiting for such release?