as a child, i was more of a
hide-and-seek kind of girl;
i had no mind for playing
pretend.  

yet here i am now, and these
past three months have been
my greatest show yet--

but ****,

               where
      have
                                 you
                                             gone?

because i've been seeking for too long,
and i can't find you anywhere.

Executives smile
before they pull out the knife -
stressful way of life.

I had a not so secret crush on a girl two years my senior.
I made a be-line straight to study hall to sit at her table.
When she graduated, I asked if I could write in her year book.
She sweetly but somewhat reluctantly handed it to me.
I wrote her a special love sonnet (of sort) in the very back of her year book.

When I returned her book the next day,
I looked her in the eyes, smiled and wished her the best.
Trying not to choke on my words and not wanting to show a tear.
I quickly and graciously made my exit.

Two years later, she showed up at my graduation.
She appeared from behind me and called me by name.
I turned to see her always beautiful smile and sparkling eyes.
Taller and more beautiful than I remembered.

Her sudden & unexpected appearance stunned me!
My reaction in turn, appeared to have disturbed her!
Her smile faded, then she wished me well and made a swift but graceful exit.
We never saw or spoke again!

I wish my actions had been much more delightful.
I was a nervous young man and lacked confidence in the presents of such beauty.
Still true to this day! I sometimes wonder how and where my high school crush is doing.
Just fine, I imagine.

The rain came down.

I sat on the doorstep,
eating tinned peaches,
and the rain fell.

Walking out, into the city,
life falls in one-two beats;
being nothing and comfortable,
the architecture stows straight lips,
moves on, the rain falls.

Freight rolls, wet tracks northbound,
over-bridges exuding fine china,
two fishermen idle away remaining hours;
concrete bunches the rain into shallows.

How hollow the sea, that home,
the crooked lines of the inland peninsula;
how strange, this routine, in
how so very full of emptiness I have become,
like the rain, having fallen upon ebbing tides.

The rain no longer falls.

"i heard you crying in the shower," margo says.

i put my book down beside me.  i blink, margo blinks.  her hair drips beads of water onto my carpet.

"yes," i reply.

"does that mean you're still sad?" she asks.

"no...yes- well, not really. not in the sense you're thinking," i say.

"oh."

"yeah."

margo makes her way from the doorway to my bed and takes a seat at the foot.  she's still wearing a towel instead of clothes, and her skin is pink from the heat of her shower.  she looks like she has more to say, but i don't ask, so she doesn't tell.  instead, we just sit and watch each other.  i wonder what the hospital has made me look like to her, and she probably wonders if i actually love her enough to get better this time, or if i was just saying it to make her happy.

"since when do you wear make-up, kiddo?" i ask, hoping to break the silence.  the black lines underneath her eyes are suddenly the only things i can pay attention to.

"i don't know.  i guess right after you left," she says.

"oh."

"yeah."