TAG | Love
When you elevated her on a pedestal,
When you’ve spent several years pining away.
When you’re think she’s more than a friend,
When the end never could come quickly enough.
She ends it with a simple nod,
you’re free.
Your emotions expand from being bound,
your hopes and fears rush to every crevice,
And you realise,
It was all in your head,
Nothing but a quick digression once in a while,
She’s a friend.
Always a good friend, and always should stay a friend.
His cologne preceded him,
you said words meaning something,
I gave a 2 second glance and decided you two insignificant,
I practiced a turn and an open in my salsa inebriated mind.
My pace was harried
Yours measured
My thoughts joyful
Yours obscured
A girl in a cinnamon jacket, crimson almost,
unbefitting of your pillowy, mellowy figure.
A snif.
Not quite a full sniff, but audible to me and me alone.
Was it meant for me? No I’m just being self centred.
No. She meant it for herself. and her private thoughts.
Time slowed and I turned, thoughts of delicate footwork disappearing.
Who was she? Why is she crying?
She stared right at me, a face blurred by motion. Mine.
My motions sped up, I couldn’t help myself.
Asians don’t show outward emotion, We hide it until unbearable
and then blow up at our wives/boyfriends/children.
Asians don’t do something as silly as cry over boys/girls.
Not in public.
Asians Don’t. We walk away and avoid the gaze.
That glazed look, eyes forward, or at the moon.
Anywhere but at the spectacle. And I couldn’t do anything.
I wouldn’t do anything.
