| Although I no longer have
A good enough opinion of myself,
I still let myself think sometimes
Or dream at will about flirting, romancing you—
I still can’t help it! I never seem to know my age.
I wish I never knew my limits just as well.
It would even be unobjectionable
If you smelled of lavender and vanilla
Like that sweet-old-lady scent I sometimes detect
In the red-ribboned curls and laundered shirts
Of that pretty coffee-colored girl who lives downstairs
With Granny Merle, who isn’t quite so sweet, I’m told!
rcs.
Current draft: 3/21/2010
Created on 3/17/2010 11:07 AM |
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)