small hands
interlaced.
through time i peer
searching for your gentle eyes.
your silence never cold
but not quite reassuring.
i speak endlessly--needlessly
amused, you smile.
my mind goes absolutely insane
as i try to typify this
never content am i
to passively watch time unfold
searching my brain for something of interest
to keep your attention--that chuckle i crave.
earnestly i desire
for this to mean something
i can only hope for sonnets in the afternoon
and guarded smiles in the evening.
why can't we just make out in your car?
oops... did i say that out loud?
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