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Disappointment.

Something beautiful,
Gaze fixed unto mine,
Romantic tension,
Lingers in the air,
Her eyes glisten,
I'm staring at her fair hair,
She's sitting in that solitary chair,
Table to her own,

I she like me,
Comfortable in her own zone,
Slightly odd,
But still inviting,

She's constantly on her phone,
But whenever her face lifts,
Our eyes transfix,
I came here longing to be alone,
But the more we link eyes,
I'd rather be.
Next to her,
I already am,
In fantasy,
We're sharing being in that zone,

The candle,
Doesn't light much,
But enables me to see her,
Let all else go,
Let her encounter me,
Hold hands,
No miserable simplicity,
Sharing accountability,
For our time together,

She doesn't know me,
Yet,
But she will,
I'm not letting go,
Beautiful,
Delicate earlobes visible,
As I lean in for a kiss,
It's starting to freak me out,
Nothing is amiss,
My anxiety,
Usually forefront,
Seems to not exist,
Everything is going fine,
It seems that for this one time,
The real me is going to shine,
Through,

I sit back in my chair,
Something is actually there,
Our conversation,
Flowing on,
Without even a slight struggle,
Look at us in our shared bubble,
Only me and her exist,
We share another kiss,
Condemning me to never forget,
The feeling of her supple lips,
I'm stroking her ample hips,
Forgetting how unexpected this all was,

Our bubble closes in tighter,
Body-language obviously showing that I like her,
Same goes for her,
Not even needing alcohol,
To induce,
The usual need for dutch courage,
Our passion completely natural,
We are outside,
Leaning onto a wall,
We're too into each other,
To even finish the fag,
Re-lit about a hundred times,

My romantic mind,
Seeing us leaning closer,
Under star-lit sky,
This is perfect,

We leave for my house,
Just us,
A bottle of wine,
To douse the anticipation,
Staring into her hazel eyes,
Wine in one hand,
Other on her thigh,
Not in a dirty way,
Theres no place,
For sultry thought here,

Yet,
This situation is worthy of taking time,
To get there,
To that point,
It"s still early yet,

Then I yawn,
Somethings wrong,
I start fluttering my eyes,
It dawns on me,
A very string feeling of unease,
Her forms start flickering,
My wine glass doesn't have a counter-part,
My date is Figment of an overactive imagination,


Empty glass,

No-one to phone,
No alcohol left,
To put me into that all to familiar,
Drunken comfort-zone,


Getting dressed,
Thoughts colleced,
No longer stressed,
Standing on the platform,
Anxiety neglected,
Calm as ever,
As The train howls close,
I'm pretty much emotionally comatose,
"This train doesn"t stop at this station"<
I know,
I think to myself,
As I take my last ever step....




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Läst 214 gånger och applåderad av 2 personer
Publicerad 2015-03-03 02:16



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The intellectual moron