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I notice you in the pub, you with the raven black hair and pierced face,

you look at me, a dark eagle. I guess rightly that you’re as alternative as me.

We talk, we get on, I see no ring on your finger, are you single, should I have asked? You say you sing, I say I write and I’ll show you my poems, you’ll sing me a song. What kind, I ask, emotional you say, but you just want to read them, not be part

of it all, in the middle of it. When did this start – when I first saw you at the bar?

And you’re scared by my work, by the intensity of it all, the wrong

thing, not meant to be. And I heard you talking, you have a boyfriend,

what will he think, will he laugh it off or want a piece of me?

Have you overreacted, a girl like you, or have I overstepped the line?

I think it’s a bit of both so I’ll let things die down and move on in life,

hope you’re ok, don’t be mad!


girlpubafter hertaken




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