to my left

when she hops off the bar stool and steps onto the stage,

you keep your head down,

though I know you are listening;

you cringe slightly

at every wrong note.


she is giddy and

on her third drink while you,

stone-faced and handsome,

take another sip of your birch beer.

you leaf through the song book as if deep in thought.

you study it like a bible,

like you are looking for your own song

(but I come here all the time;

I know you don’t sing).


you glance over your shoulder only once.

I can’t tell if you love her too much or

not enough

to watch her make such an adorable fool of herself.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s