The Blues of a Distantly Bashful Benchwarmer

innocent flirtation can be a dangerous game yet and still i play it in the hopes of it coming to fruition distance can be the merciless foe of a love so desired though now she is with him, the connection we have still shines in our replies and reactions though i am now with her, the way we clicked before still radiates brightly in our tonalities and our hidden arousals time is still a distant cousin unseen till the lottery of reality hits home reality is still an unpredictable stalker till the sweepstakes of the here and now throws its unfortunate confetti flirtation in the secret admission of guilt can be a hopeless waste of energy nevertheless, i participate in every aspect of the game hoping for the trophy oh so far away from my grasp