A leaf covered her face
whenever she was looking my way
otherwise obscured in thought.

She hid behind a phalanx
of unopened books
and scribbled tentative thoughts
on the dances and sacrifices
that accompany this time of year.

She hated that I was there,
in such close proximity,
my own shielding wall,
my own needlessly large dose
of sleep substitute,
my own inane scribbles,
as I hated that she was there.

I wanted her even closer.

She wanted me without leaves.

05/04/2009

Author's Note: 2:00 pm or so

Posted on 05/04/2009
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