Sunday, April 7, 2013

That Thing Poets Do In April: 6/30

I don't know who she is
Just know she exists outside of my fantasy of "perfect"
I see her like most would see a mountain in the distance
Visible but...waaaay over there
Not animated as water
With all it's metaphor properties
Not spiritual like the wind
She is just part of the scenery til you're standing at her feet
Each smile, nod, "hello" is a step toward something greater
Testing my strength, gradually
Inclined to think bigger
All that time building 
Being a muscle head
My thoughts were never trained for this

Her polite words are genuine
I'm not use to that
"Is she flirting with me?"
There is not a breath of sex anywhere in her stride 
Towards me
As welcoming as it is
I over train when I think of what shes thinking
Worried about "what if"s
Am I crazy?
Is this a fair
What if she's trying to trick me?
What if I can't remember the tricks of this trade
Because I'm just a silly rabbit 
And tricks are for kids?!

I'm not making any sense
She tells me money isn't everything
Everything is free
So I shouldn't pay her any mind

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