It’s the plushness of his lips that strikes you first. They’re
like velvet pillows and you know that sounds cliché but it’s accurate and
evocative so you’re going with that.
Then the eyes. They’re so pale you can’t tell if they’re
blue or green. What you are sure of is the ice, the luminosity. His eyes are
cold and gorgeous like one of those Alaskan huskies.
The camera loves this man — even the camera at the local
jail.
With eyes that hypnotic, you almost miss the tattoo just
beneath them. A single tear marks the face of one too gorgeous ever to be sad.
Vaguely, you recall that a tear under the left eye signifies something
gang-related. Like this beautiful creature killed someone or he permanently
cries a tear for a loved one who died while he was in prison.
You search out information on this man. The pulchritude of
his mugshot is so blinding that it nearly obscures the article beneath. A
prison term in the past. Gun charges in the present. Whispers of gang ties. For
all you know, he could have killed someone.
None of it matters. With a face like that, he can kill you
anytime.
The mugshots of this man’s codefendants linger around the
edges but none of them are beautiful enough to matter or to fight for. No, what
matters is that one with such eyes and lips should not have to hide his light
in a prison cell. So you donate to his Kickstarter bail fund.
In a daydream, you see yourself in court defending this man.
You tell the judge and jury how unfair it would be for those Alaskan husky eyes
to have to stare at prison cinderblock; how wrong it would be for those velvet
pillow lips to have to swallow prison food.
“Your honor,” you would say, “the only thing this man is
guilty of is being too sexy.” Then the courtroom would erupt in applause and
catcalls and everyone would fan themselves with lust. The judge would bang the
gavel and dismiss the case.
And then the freed man would take you home and murder your
body with his.
You know it’s wrong. But giiiiirl those eyes those lips. You
know it’s wrong.
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