chaos in shoes

ominously leering off into the distance, a desirous nod punctuated with a persistent glance almost makes the buttons of my pants come undone, popping off to the sound of bolero. but it's the flutter of your eyelashes furiously flapping up and down, your hopeless attempt to send butterfly kisses into the hostile atmosphere around us is what really does me in.
as the clouds descend upon our steppes, clustering up like cartoon pillows being fluffed up for plump effect, you do a kind of chicken dance, only, you say you're pretending to be a bachelor peacock. "i'm a pretty bird obviously doing a mating dance, can't you tell?" you say. (obviously no way in hell i can contest this statement.)
i stand tall, falsely impervious to this sort of charm, but it's hopeless, for the goosebumps on my arm give away how i truly feel. chills going down my spine, i can only smile. and as you jolt and jive it occurs to me that you look like a baby ostrich instead of a peacock.
i'm won over, but you don't know that yet. it was what you said to me next that will forever stay with me, etched onto my heart permanently.
i have my title.