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Poem

Hands touch, accidentally
Short, deep glances by me, as she looks the other away
Be sure not to get caught
Although I expect she’s doing the same
We can’t do this, can we?
No-one will know, no-one gets hurt, isn’t that the line?
I heard it was just a bit of harmless fun

She must feel my gaze on the back of her neck,
Following her outline, curve and grooves
Perhaps she’s doing it to me too
Fantasizing about what it might be like
Or maybe that’s just me.
I tried ‘loves-me, loves-me-not’ on some dandelions
Four goes, two for each I decided not to push my luck. What if it was 3-2 not?

Should I make a move? That’s the question.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained,
Nothing to lose except perhaps a little dignity
But what if she said yes? 
An end to the fantasy, could capture better the chase?
I see her talking to someone else, flicking her hair, laughing,
I hate that, I feel inadequate, is she taunting me?

My newly acquired quixotic behaviour can hardly have gone unnoticed,
Nebbish ineffectualism gives way to confidence and chat
Why didn’t someone tell me, warn me? 
It’s happened a hundred times, to a hundred different others
I thought it was different with us, what am I thinking, there was never an ‘us’
All done in my own mind, my own feral, overstretched imagining
I’m shot now, disheartened and heartbroken, without a word said I know,
No fool like an old fool, like this old fool

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