I prepare justifications to be close to him

drop boxes of office supplies on the floor by his desk

so that I can spend a few more seconds lingering near his feet, picking up

tiny metal paper clips and scattered number two pencils

vociferously proclaim impromptu donut runs to the bakery

my treat for the workplace, for him. Afterward, after work.

I pursue his car almost all the way

to his home, cling to his bumper

smile at him whenever I see him checking

his rear view mirror, veer off at the last moment

just prior to the turn-off to his cul-de-sac

stop the car around the corner and wait.

I fritter the night hours watching him sleep

first from the car, quietly parked across the street

then from the shelter of the bushes behind his house,

pressed against his bedroom window, my hands leaving

faint outlines of sweat on the glass

as I think of more ways to get closer

try to find courage to say the things I must say.

11/25/2013 05:57:17 am

A terrific poem by a lady whose work I some time ago came to admire.


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