Flypaper

But I still have my secret weapon; This, my brave and hopeful heart.
It's been one of those weeks that just sap my energy completly.
I want nothing more than to just spend friday and the rest of the weekend in bed, sleeping or reading.


I hate fighting with you.
Even not fighting with you,
but still knowing that something is brewing;
something is just under the surface.

Goodevening,
if seeing you across the room
makes me smile this way,
then move a little closer.
Darling if you see me staring,
its the man I finally see.
I can't explain how
in the car I saw the man;
and he not knowing
how he means to me.
Fingers speaking to skin,
I cannot say how I knew then
the man was hiding.
I drink in your grave face and
cool mannerisms,
as you recklessly indanger
and enjoy.
My cheek feels yours;
if you care to know, it was warm and sweet.
Grave face and careless hands,
you look at me.
I am aware of your eyes, and how even though your mouth is grim, you are sparkling.
is that for me?
Your tongue tells me
my eyes are celery in the sunlight m'dear.
And my stomach flips.
Pity for the world wells up,
they are not in my place.