and here I go again

I am fond of eyeing her furtively without her noticing it. Minutes, or just seconds of short glimpses of her, are a moment of bliss for me. The contours of her face, the color of her sun-kissed skin, the bulging cheeks of hers massed like a profusion of adipose tissues from a fat baby's belly- they all are perfectly complementary. I am fond of eavesdropping to her muffled sighs and childish grunts, and it cannot be helped all the time. I am fond of listening to her quips and anecdotes of life, like an attentive student eager to hark more stories from his teacher. She is standing atop a pedestal, and I am still on the ground, looking up to her like a weary carpenter content on appreciating a finely sculpted statue. However, along the ticking of the clock, I do know that that pedestal will soon collapse and crumble.