Fascinated Burnt Man

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When you enter, close the door,
Return a call or when you walk
Past me, or watch me sit, the way you measure
Your molecules, indicates that you think there is
Something that I think there ain’t: that I’m in love

And am fascinated, burnt
Half like a cashew by you —
Which is not true — which is not lies —
And I sometimes thank almighty God I was made of glue,
When, sometimes, you meet me with your eyes.

That you think there is
Something that I think there ain’t: and
We’re equals in this game; and at times
When the world is absent (with their tuned ears)
We confide in each other our most intimate fears.

We never say that you think that I am
Unnerved by you; nor do I say that I ain’t.
We talk of Garfunkel, of Johann Sebastian Bach.
We talk of ourselves and we answer each other well
And go our ways with small farewells before it goes dark.

fashion-friends-model-tennis-vintage-Favim.com-159355

2014-01-25

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