She didn’t know I existed. I kept it that way
as approaching the chick would only end with egg on my face.
Instead I remain silent and watch from a distance
to follow with interest the honeycomb blonde with the ringlets.
Each lock is as twisted as my heart in the moment
yet calm and composed as her caramel-carpeted shoulders.
In a darting look over to where I stand in wait,
her eyes are fathoms deep azure seas I’ll never navigate.
I sense her tranquil gaze staring through my heart of glass
into the hardened facet where my blues are hard to mask.
@
Spoken