Mysterious Poem by Sylvia McMillan Edmonds

He entered my life like a breeze on a hot summer day.
Calm. Cool. Refreshing. Unexpected.
For the moment, everything surrounding my presence seemed to cease.
I existed only for the moment.

Everything about him spoke of a man of depth.
From his rugged b-boy-style, to his 'unusual suspect' demeanor.
His facade kept his audience entertained with suspense.

Is my reason for thinking about Mysterious due to my need for closure?
I seem to crave every ounce of his existence: his intellect, his philosophies, his manhood, and his overall person.
Am I fantasizing about something that never existed?
My heart cries with excitement and addiction.

What is it about Mysterious that moves every muscle and touches every nerve in my body?
My body aches with desire.
A desire to once again taste the bitter-sweetness of his lips and to feel the chill run through my body from just a simple glance.
I can't stop thinking about that one magical evening where we exchanged favors of passion.

Is this longing due to my need to be comforted and relieved of my pain?
A part of me desires to know, but then a part of me trembles in fear of knowing.
How is it possible for one person to have such magnetism over an individual?
Mysterious...