Her eyes ostensibly dreary,
her melancholy stride
fell as gently as a dead leaf in fall.
To me, it is no surprise,
There was no way I could know her mind,
but I never thought to try
I'm a run of the mill guy,
waiting for rain to sedate
this blistering heat of a midday in summer.
My nerves rattle my calm,
and later today when I have my lonely supper,
I will remember to unhinge myself,
for it has been a busy day,
full of bickering and monotone machinery
No I don't hope anyone was by my side,
least of all her,
What would I even say?
I do not want to ask about her day,
If anything, I would sink into a pool of shame
Screaming for the drowning jingle jangle of cafes,
the silent companionship of an ashtray,
but a silent person like her is anything but.
These evenings go by with relative ease,
I slip under the rug thoughts that should cease to exist,
although I think about her sometimes when I sleep,
I've found there is a comforting distance, between life and fantasy.