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To Bill Chene's previous piece
I was sitting in the park, Marking time, waiting For the darkness. All day long I've been making up Silly, pointless rhymes About knowing you. "Young, blonde & Twenty three. You have to be." I can't help it if my Mind is kind of morbid. Saw you here last week But you didn't see me Watching you, Following you At a distance, Pretending to be Someone else, hidden In the forest shadows, Walking along the edge Of the tightly knit grass. Even though we Both shared the same Experience, walking Along, alone in this Lovely urban park. I hung back a ways, Bit my lower lip and waited, Not wanting to spoil it. We needed to have the Perfect moment to meet. You see, I still believe In love at first sight. Today you're back, Sitting on a blanket At the woods' edge Pretending to read a book, Occasionally watching me From the corner of your eye. You think that maybe I could be the kind of guy Who'd take the time Who'd stay long enough To get to know you, To love you long and gentle. In a while, when the time is right I'm going to approach you and say Something like, "Hi, My name's Johnny Blade. Lets climb out of this bed That we've made called life- I'm not sure the world cares What we do or say tonight, While hiding behind these tiny lives We all get to share For only a little while-"
Watching me, the words Turn over in your mouth You like my handsome, Youthful face but you Don't know whether To say "Please go away Or no, stay.....sit down For a while, find out who I am, what my name, My phone number is.@ As we make small talk I stare at you and think About how it would be To lie on that blanket With you, stroking your Soft neck like a dove Knowing all the while that You're all I deserve, No more, no less. Tonight we are the last To leave the wooded park And God's the bartender. He smiles warmly and says: "It's last call for daylight, Please, stay for just one more Slow drink of forgetfulness. Those last minute insights Of yours are all too late. They don't quite fit Into this perfect moment. You see, needs have No concept of time" We stand up and Awkwardly circle The blanket, looking Tentatively at each other Hanging around, afraid To be the first to go, stuck On that hello - good bye Thing like two thieves On crosses, waiting for God To pour another round But there can be No redemption for loners. There are only the twinkling fireflies And that dark footpath, Its shadowy crease, Like a womb, leading Deep into the woods, Alive with the scent Of rich, dark earth and Wild honeysuckle. Tomorrow you will be a headline, Sleeping in the woods forever, Hidden deep under the leaves With your other silent sisters, All trying to sigh your way Back into my heart-
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