I think there's something else you're thinking of
Or far more likely, someone else. Oh well.
It won't do any good to talk of love,
No matter what I say. I'd like to tell
You so, so many things, but what's the use?
You're hardly listening, and if you were,
I'd only put you off with such profuse
Avowals. I imagine you prefer
A quieter approach, but even that
Will not avail me; so I will not speak
(Itself a thing that some would wonder at).
Permit me to pretend that I am meek
And, without asking, tell me where your mind
Is wandering, and where your heart's consigned.
No comments:
Post a Comment