Thursday, January 24, 2008

Sitting on my own island, looking at another

Maybe it's the moon, maybe it's something about her smile,
But speaking to her then leaving, I do only with reluctance.
Though learning more might merely disappoint me, still,
I want to know more of this woman whose name's an island.
So I go nowhere - daring not to return to the restaurant -
Waiting for nothing to happen, broken by this indecision,
Because waiting till next week, I sense, would be too long
And something else also tells me that I'm not so strong

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