silent little longings, sirens blaring through covered eyes,
hiding all emotional ties
though inside spun around, up and down, but so still
even the solemn soot colored heels quake with all they feel
But the paddle of coversation hides what I am condemned to say
for the day that it escapes , the day that the tape is ripped off and it all comes gushing out is the day that neither of us will be proud of,
so stuffed quietly into the recesses of my mind It’s wrapped and bowed,
I don’t wait to decide whether time will mind me, find me in his artillery, silly me, I become a girl again, cut out hearts and satin ribbon unfurled, welcome to my world, I would hurl this at the floor if it would stay , but my mind is a battlefield of games and names, flames that float atop things I thought I drowned,
now poetically I police these churnings, bits and pieces of yearnings, and turn them into a story, about the lives of two people submerged in two different waters, but yet they drink tea out of the same cup and saucer, they discover,
when He would stop to see her
see more then just the place she occupies
she is grabbing at the moments. the curved compliments he sends like backhanded tennis shots that hit and then dart off sideways onto pavement
He is so dysfunctional but in a regular way
She knows that it is just the external that entrap her gaze
His eyes the color of play, yet a calm
His smile wide like a million prides
His ego could be a shelf for something to be kept
and yet she wishes she would be the one who is let up there into his world,
she hides her desires
the fire of this attraction, she shares with him the happenings and they continue laughing… but she is not his type and he is not her s either and yet she falls into this mental chase of a common reciever and embraces the idea of him one day turning around and choosing her, the silent little woman who has so much to do, to much to stop and tie her romance shoes, a crush is so time consuming, so much of a commitment,
so she shakes his hand and smiles a while, takes the files and wiggles away to her small little space, a place where crushes come to play but never stay, and she can’t help wishing
she can’t help listening for indications that He is interested
in more then the has been kernals that lean seductively in to his vision
Just once she wishes she could own that attention,
but alas she is just a gypsy of love searching for the caravan of hope that will take her and elevate her into a happier corner of earth,
even though she knows within the guy is still a jerk,
but what’s it hurt he is just a crush.