spewing about the latest trends,
and I, looking up with admiration,
do not hear a word.
Annoyed by my waning interest
she exhales a long, dramatic sigh,
and so, digging her nails into the moment,
So I yank some inspiration from above,
forage a weapon of quick, romantic wit.
Hoping to turn the moment into momentous,
or at least something a little more surreal:
May I say, your personality has moved me tonight.
It’s as sweet as nectar on a hummingbird’s beak;
honey on the breath of a sleepy bee.
You’re the human equivalent of eternal starlight.
Just look up, and you will see,
a million reasons your beauty affects me.
She smiled wide, bug-eyed,
like a kitten had licked her face.
I feigned innocence
and took her hand to enhance the moment.
But she pulled away, a zealot of gossip,
when her purse began to ring.
And I knew then that our potential had fled;
that she’d never embrace the best of me.
She never did see the stars that night. Or any other.
So I BS’d how I was the bitter and she was the sweet,
and how love doesn’t mix that way. And she,
unaware that the two mix well, agreed.
And that goes without saying
that what I told her was a lie,
for I simply could not fall in love
with a girl who ignored the sky.