I watch you walk away, and I know you know I am because there is that subtle extra sway in your hips. Perhaps it’s subconscious, I suspect maybe it is. I like that. I know you don’t like to admit it, but you love it when I watch you.
And when you walk back, I watch you again. This time you do see me. you drop your head slightly, there is a trace of a shy smile, and a faint blush on your face. But you meet my gaze, and in doing so you know are you are the most beautiful girl in the room, in my life.
There is no other I want to watch, not the way I see you, the way you know I see you.