it is much more than a mystery or drama
how we seem to always meet between dawn and noon
here on the white paper plains

it is more than my dreams and yours how you look
so much like Godiva to me
to you I
may be Rasputin

for I fairly wonder how you look clothed
and not giving your deepest thoughts
to anyone meandering by.

I must seem like the Hunchback in a
cathedral to you. Brash hunched words
loud and medieval.

Or a King with no castle, nor clothes.
No diamonds to hang on your pretty head.
No knight to protect you.

But, we still meet here, by fate or design,
and so in chance not to break the spell,
and tomorrow you might not be here,

I will just go on.