At a quarter past two
I'm thinking of you
Because the light in my room flits; it flickers.
I'm sure you'd rather I wouldn't
If you so much as thought,
An intermittent thought,
About me. I doubt
You care that I care -
Apathy poorly transmits through the air.
But a walk in the park isn't easy.
I know no romance, it isn't my style;
It makes my bravado feel queasy.
Furthermore;
I am fully aware that fear is a flaw,
Which I showed in the face of a blond labrador,
That saccharine harbinger of doom.
And so, we both laughed
And kissed in the grass.
But this isn't that place,
It's my darkening room.
And lying in bed, The light flickers
Dead.
Coincidentally, the sparks gone again.
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