Guy watching
He swayed like a tall ship, making his way through the pedestrian crowd.
The world disappeared over the horizon as he effortlessly tacked through the throng.
His immaculate white t-shirt luffed in the breeze.
His hair, caught up in the wind, flying like a pennant.
A spectral Flying Dutchman, drifting, floating, gliding towards me.
His gaze shot past me, like a ball over the bow.
There would be no boarding this handsome frigate.
A buxom wench festooned his yardarm.
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