Friday, December 19, 2008

Nice Meeting You

I met a girl with captivating eyes
but I don't do well with strangers
I noticed her smile
and I looked away
her art was plastered against walls
her card
neatly tucked into a corner
we talked about coffee
I kept my eyes elsewhere
afraid of that stare
and what it might see
dirty soul
crooked smile
truth maybe

we walked on
I was alone in the cold
hundreds of strangers rushing
past and with and against
I sat in mexican restraunt
(the one with homemade tortilla)
unable to come up with the cash
for a burrito

we came back to the store
still I was unable
to see those eyes
I rambled about books
and made uncomfortable jokes
to no one in particular

on birthdat occasion
we spoke briefly
easier on the telephone
but still fearful
that your eyes could
see through the receiver
so I played a part
(a character I liked from a movie)

maybe it was the truth
in your eyes
that made me tremble
or maybe
your eyes were like sirens
and I had wax in my ears
knowing just how many a man
had crashed their ships
against your shores

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